Ink runs from the corners of my mouth. There is no happiness like mine. I have been eating poetry.

To open the dictionary of the Beyond and discover what one suspected, that the only word in it is nothing.

We all have reasons for moving. I move to keep things whole.

The number of people writing poems is vast, and their reasons for doing so are many, that much can be surmised from the stacks of submissions.

And at least in poetry you should feel free to lie. That is, not to lie, but to imagine what you want, to follow the direction of the poem.

Poetry is, first and last, language - the rest is filler.

The future is always beginning now.