Poetry can keep life itself alive. You can endure almost anything as long as you can sing about it.
I asked the Mesquite coach who he thought the best team in Mesquite is. He said they were about even.
Look: I am nothing. I do not even have ashes to rub into my eyes.
Suddenly I realize That if I stepped out of my body I would break Into blossom.
I close my eyes, and think of water.
I write abundantly. And then my next step is to struggle to reduce the ornament, to reduce the abundance-to prune the book, in other words, the way one prunes a tree-so it can grow. This is my idea of a book.