I'm becoming the street. Who are you in love with? me? Straight against the light I cross.

I'm becoming the street. Who are you in love with? me? Straight against the light I cross.

And always embrace things, people earth sky stars, as I do, freely and with the appropriate sense of space.

My heart is in my/ pocket. It is poems by Pierre Reverdy.

That's not a run in your stocking, it's a hand on your leg.

It may be that poetry makes life's nebulous events tangible to me and restores their detail; or conversely, that poetry brings forth the intangible quality of incidents which are all too concrete and circumstantial. Or each on specific occasions, or both all the time.

I don't ... like rhythm, assonance, all that stuff. You just go on your nerve. If someone's chasing you down the street with a knife you just run, you don't turn around and shout, 'Give it up! I was a track star for Mineola Prep.'