“But being is making; not only large things, a family, a book, a business; but the shape we give this afternoon, a conversation between friends, a meal.”

“drugged to sleep by repetition of the diurnalround, the monotonous sorrow of the finite,within       I am awakerepairing in dirt the frayed immaculate threadforced by being to watch the birth of suns”

“We fill pre-existing forms and when we fill them change them and are changed.”

“The Old Man at the WheelMeasured against the immeasurable universe, no word you have spokenbrought light. Broughtlight to what, as a child, you thoughttoo dark to be survived. By exorcismyou survived. By submission, then making.You let all the parts of that thing you wouldcut out of you enter your poem becauseenacting there all its parts allowed youthe illusion you could cut it from your soul.Dilemmas of choice given what cannotchange alone roused you to words.As you grip the things that were young when you were young, they crumble in your hand.Now you must drive west, which in Novembermeans driving directly into the sun.”

“The law is that youmust livein the house you have built.The law is absurd: it iswritten down nowhere.You are uncertain what crimeis, though each life writhing toelude what it has madefeels like punishment.”

“then the voice in my head said WHETHER YOU LOVE WHAT YOU LOVE OR LIVE IN DIVIDED CEASELESS REVOLT AGAINST IT WHAT YOU LOVE IS YOUR FATE ”

“What takes place in me stays there.”