The Song of Solomon The song of everyone Who walks the path Of the solitary heart.

Here come the Hills of Time

The soul cries out Hear a woman singing Don't want your bullshit, yeah Just want your sexuality. Don't want excuses, yeah Write me your poetry in motion Write …

And I can hear my mother saying 'Every old sock meets an old shoe' Isn't that a great saying?

There is a marvelous peace in not publishing. ... It's peaceful. Still. Publishing is a terrible invasion of my privacy. I like to write. I live to write. But …

She was a soprano of the kind often used for augmenting grief at a funeral.

I paint self-portraits because I am so often alone, because I am the person I know best.