all the wordsall the poems know my warm, soft spots.

Poetry calls into question what it means to be human

Living together/ is one move closer/ to living apart

Poetry makes life what lights and music do the stage.

The answer to our existence lies in existence itself.

Always our wars have been our confessions of weakness

and feelings were always smarter things than thoughts

With me poetry has not been a purpose, but a passion.

What did you think, that joy / was some slight thing?

Poetry is the rhythmical creation of beauty in words.

Il pleure dans mon coeur Comme il pleut sur la ville.

Love me like a wrong turn on a bad roadlate at night.

But Blake's voices returned to dictate revisions.

Fee-fi-fo-fum -Now I'm borrowed.Now I'm numb.

Breath, dreams, silence, invincible calm, you triumph.