I Shall Gain Glory Or Die.

Anything Can Happen, On The Other Hand, Is Not Only About The Atrociousness Of The September 11 Attack, It Is Also A Premonition Of The Deadly Retaliation That Was Bound To Come.

The Bogholes Might Be Atlantic Seepage. The Wet Centre Is Bottomless.

Publication Is Rather Like Pushing The Boat Out; Then The Boat/book Turns Into A Melting Ice Floe And You Have To Conjure A Second Boat Which Again Turns Into A Melting Floe Under Your Feet. All The Stepping Stones That You Conjure Disappear Under The Water Behind You.

Debate Doesn’t Really Change Things. It Gets You Bogged In Deeper. If You Can Address Or Reopen The Subject With Something New, Something From A Different Angle, Then There Is Some Hope. ... People Are Suddenly Gazing At Something Else And Pausing For A Moment. And For The Duration Of That Gaze And Pause, They Are Like Reflectors Of The Totality Of Their Own Knowledge And/or Ignorance. That’s Something Poetry Can Do For You, It Can Entrance You For A Moment Above The Pool Of Your Own Consciousness And Your Own Possibilities.

There Is Not Built-in Meaning To Anything, We Are Free To Add Any Meaning We Choose To Give It.