Whatever you have to say, leave The roots on, let them Dangle And the dirt Just to make clear Where they come from.

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

An American is a complex of occasions, themselves a geometry of spatial nature.

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

Knowledge is the harvest of attention

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.

ONE PERCEPTION MUST IMMEDIATELY AND DIRECTLY LEAD TO A FURTHER PERCEPTION