I Work Best In Rhyme And Meter.

As Humans We Look At Things And Think About What We've Looked At. We Treasure It In A Kind Of Private Art Gallery.

My Thoughts Are Crowded With Death And It Draws So Oddly On The Sexual That I Am Confused To Be Attracted By, In Effect, My Own Annihilation.

The Painter Saw What Was, An Alternate Candor And Secrecy Inside The Skin.

There Have Been Two Popular Subjects For Poetry In The Last Few Decades: The Vietnam War And Aids, About Both Of Which Almost All Of Us Have Felt Deeply.

Deep Feeling Doesn't Make For Good Poetry. A Way With Language Would Be A Bit Of Help.