2) Form is the evidence of the parameters used to shape a poem (whether they're explicit, implicit, or considered only after the fact).
3) The highlight of the moment is my broken foot. Seriously, my broken foot. Throbbing.
4) This morning Agnes said: "Water comes out of my face, it just happens."
5) Someone else said, maybe me I can't remember, though I did write it down: In art the opposite of meaningfulness is not meaninglessness, but indifference and pointlessness.
6) How to write a poem: What would happen if...?
7) In the Udine region of Italy this summer, I actually woke up to the sound of a rooster. Then church bells clanged in the distance. Recently, reading Ann Lauterbach's Or to Begin Again, I thought of that rooster. Italy. Uncomfortably hot sun on my face.
8) "The question is no longer about what the artist is saying--in fact there is no question any longer--but only a sense of the object as a site where one's awareness is centered."--Crispin Sartwell on the Wabi-Sabi in Wolfgang Laib's "Mountains" of pollen.
9) I would like to make poems which are crash sites and/or building sites where one's (my) consciousness/awareness is centered.
10) I would like to...