I'll be Pavlov, you be the dog.
I have woven a parachute out of everything broken.
If you can say it, it begins to exist.
'Be alive,' the land says, 'listen - this is your time, your world, your pleasure.'
My question is "when did other people give up the idea of being a poet?" You know, when we are kids we make up things, we write, and for me the puzzle is not that some people are still writing, the real question is why did the other people stop?
You can lie at a banquet but you have to be honest in the kitchen.