Poetry is the language of extremity. Poetry is a transfer of potency. You feel something potent and then you transfer it onto the page.

People who read poetry have heard about the burning bush, but when you write poetry, you sit inside the burning bush.

I am that last, that final thing, the body in a white sheet listening.

In writing poetry, all of one's attention is focused on some inner voice.

A door jumps out from shadows, then jumps away. This is what I've come to find: the back door, unlatched. Tooled by insular wind, it slams and slams without meaning to and without meaning.

Our bodies look solid, but they arent. Were like a fountain. A fountain of water looks solid, but you can put your fingers right through it. Our bodies look like things, but theres no thingness to them.

Brimming. That's what it is, I want to get to a place where my sentences enact brimming.