Damn wind shift sudden as a woman mind.
Peel your own image from the mirror. Sit. Feast on your life.
How can I turn from Africa and live?
The English language is nobody's special property.
Slowly my body grows a single sound, slowly I become a bell, an oval, disembodied vowel, I grow, an owl, an aureole, white fire poesia "Metamorfosi, I. Luna
Americans are not brought up with meter. They're not brought up with poetry. If you try to get them to recite, they're too embarrassed.