Light Is Time Thinking About Itself.

We Are Condemned To Kill Time, Thus We Die Bit By Bit.

Two Opposing Forces Inhabit The Poem: One Of Elevation Or Up-rooting, Which Pulls The Word From The Language: The Other Of Gravity, Which Makes It Return. The Poem Is An Original And Unique Creation, But It Is Also Reading And Recitation: Participation. The Poet Creates It; The People, By Recitation, Re-create It. Poet And Reader Are Two Moments Of A Single Reality.

Writers, You Know, Are The Beggars Of Western Society.

Listen To Me As One Listens To The Rain, The Years Go By, The Moments Return, Do You Hear The Footsteps In The Next Room? Not Here, Not There: You Hear Them In Another Time That Is Now, Listen To The Footsteps Of Time, Inventor Of Places With No Weight, Nowhere, Listen To The Rain Running Over The Terrace, The Night Is Now More Night In The Grove, Lightning Has Nestled Among The Leaves, A Restless Garden Adrift-go In, Your Shadow Covers This Page.

Deserve Your Dream.