I come here to speak poetry. It will always be in the grass. It will also be...
Art has two constant two unending concerns: It always meditates on death and...
You fall into my arms. You are the good gift of destruction's path When life...
I don't like people who have never fallen or stumbled. Their virtue is...
Literature is the art of discovering something extraordinary about ordinary...
Love is not weakness. It is strong. Only the sacrament of marriage can...
At the moment of childbirth every woman has the same aura of isolation as...
After all those days in the cotton fields the dreams came true on a gold record on a piece of wood. It's in my den where I can look at it every day. I wear it out lookin' at it.
