An artist’s statement of a sort defending the practice of poems without painting.
these poems may seem light they may seem breezy in the wind as if the words were living running their own modes to send i’ll tell you what it is, give a look behind the veil share the sense of creation explain what’s wagging this tail it’s sound here that guides us the rolling, laughing waves of vocal resonance pulsing across intermediate space perhaps you want for image a deeply inscribed view etched in hardened semantic a visual condensing dew these are not the ways that come naturally here to pen for inscriving seen certainties collect each scene of when is not the goal for this voice not here to paint a picture nor preserve a momentary nor make a mindful fixture let the sounds wash over let them soothe your soul let them warm your ear lobes let them empty the hole for nothing here is held nothing to wrap the fingers nothing to show mind’s eye no scents to very long linger
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