No man can give me any word but Wait.

And if sun comes / How shall we greet him? / Shall we not dread him, / Shall we not fear him / After so lengthy a / Session with shade?

There are no magics or elves / Or timely godmothers to guide us. We are lost, must / Wizard a track through our own screaming weed.

I like the concentration, the crush; I like working with language, as others like working with clay, or notes.

This is the urgency: Live! and have your blooming in the noise of the whirlwind.

Very early in life I became fascinated with the wonders language can achieve. And I began playing with words.

Exhaust the little moment. Soon it dies. And be it gash or gold it will not come again in this identical guise.