Atlantis will rise again.

This morning of the small snow I count the blessings, the leak in the faucet which makes of the sink time, the drop of the water on water.

I'm one of the cliches that has grown up.

I take space to be the central fact to man born in America. I spell it large because it comes large here. Large and without mercy.

You can do anything, really. And that, l think, is one of the exciting possibilities of the present, l swear, is the possibility that the goddamn thing can be modaled throughout.

The poem, for me, is simply the first sound realized in the modality of being.

I don't live for poetry. I live far more than anybody else does.