This is the world I want to live in. The shared world.

I Still Have Everything You Gave Me It is dusty on the edges. It is slightly rotten. I guard it without thinking. I focus on it once a year when I shake it out in the wind. I do not ache. I would not trade.

We all find ourselves involved in projects or activities that confound us-when or why did I say I would do this? What was I thinking? I needed a poem for myself that said-pause longer. Think again.

It was terrible when a single conversation with someone determined your whole future relationship.

I think the job of writing and literature is to encourage each one of us to believe that we're living in a story.

I want to be someone making music/with my coming.

I keep thinking, we teach children to use language to solve their disputes. We teach them not to hit and fight and bite. Then look what adults do!