I heard the poets
How they spoke
“Don’t leave me, ” they said—
“We’re going home now.”
...
Between a rose and a treasure box
From the window of that shop, I chose you
But of all I have and all I need
...
I envy the painters
Those that create mountains
And dispose of grief with subtle beauty
...
I love you when you are in a quiet stare
Away from me—
When I whisper, ‘I love you’
And my words do not reach you
...
The piano came to me
It could not find the right key
Apparently it was looking for a door
...
Everyday a blank page asks
What do you have to say?
How should I answer?
...
'What a stupid man'—said those who were wise
Those who dominated math
And perfected every language
'How useless, ' they said as they marched away
...
All of us poets (if you will)
Write about certain girls
And of all the girls we meet
Only of them we wish to go on writing
...
The hands on the clock move so fast
They do not seem like hands at all
They’re like feet that walk in circles
For so long that things change
...
Seems I go blinder everyday
And every day I become less of a writing man
Who knows what’s going on?
...