I want the blood to stay liquid, the bones never to rise again...
Often when I tell people about my life, they ask, 'Poetry and mathematics?'
One poem featured the Blob complaining to its mother about its lack of physical boundaries.
At times, one eavesdrops in an attempt to develop a theory of place....
Like children shuttling between the homes of divorced parents, American poets feel obliged to negotiate poetic lineages.
