What does not change is the will to change

I defer to all these other American poets who, for some reason, I both envy and admire.

I was playing catch with the European audience.

O.K. I'm running out of appetite. Let this swirl- a bit like Crab Nebula- do for now.

There are no hierarchies, no infinite, no such many as mass, there are only/ eyes in all heads,/ to be looked out of.

I sound like Homer. I mean Winslow Homer.

There is a grace of life which is still yours, my dear Europe.