Applause is the beginning of abuse
You are who you choose to be.
Prose, narratives, etcetera, can carry healing. Poetry does it more intensely.
I shall also take you forth and carve our names together in a yew tree, haloed with stars.
The world's decay where the wind's hands have passed, And my head, worn out with love, at rest In my hands, and my hands full of dust.
As Popa penetrates deeper into his life, with book after book, it begins to look like a Universe passing through a Universe. It is one of the most exciting things in modern poetry, to watch this journey being made.