Love, we are a small pond.
To build is to dwell.
I didn't write my poems because I wanted to, they were wrung from me. I had to write them.
God serves the choosy. They know what to want.
One way of ending the poem is to turn it back on itself, like a serpent with its tail in its mouth.
To write about the monstrous sense of alienation the poet feels in this culture of polarized hatreds is a way of staying sane. With the poem, I reach out to an audience equally at odds with official policy, and I celebrate our mutual humanness in an inhuman world.