The poetic prose that most interests me is that of Henri Michaux.
I am in no way different from anyone else, that my predicament, my sense of aloneness or isolation may be precisely what unites me with everyone.
Poetry endures when it possesses passionate and primally sincere clarity in the service of articulating universal human concerns.
I wish my father could be around.
Poetry, just because it is poetry, doesn’t mean it is some kind of magic spell.
It’s hard for me to grasp that I might somehow be my father’s equal in any way.