Who do you serve? Do you serve somebody? I serve the poem, no one..

I never have anything to talk about..

What God originates, God orchestrates..

I like my work to stand on its own as much as possible..

There is beauty in everything, Just not everybody sees it.

Swallows and Amazons for-ever!.

Some changes are so slow, you don't notice them, others are so fast, they don't notice you..

I took a fresh pack of Luckies, a mint called Sen-Sen, my old man's Trojans..

How shall we account for our pursuits, if they are original? We get the language with which to describe our various lives out of acommon mint..

It's clear, it's fresh, like a mint candy..

My head is pounding. I wish the mints were aspirin..

She wanted to hold foreign syllables like mints on her tongue until they dissolved into fluency..