I mean, have you ever imagined

the ocean is alive, and needs to tell us something important, and the only way it can talk

is by making waves crash, and we just lounge there, drenched in cocoa butter, on towels

with crappy novels and volleyballs, sipping spritzers, as the ocean uses all its strength to repeat

the same warning over and over?

(from the poem "The Berlin Mall")

I mean, have you ever imagined

the ocean is alive, and needs to tell us something important, and the only way it can talk

is by making waves crash, and we just lounge there, drenched in cocoa butter, on towels

with crappy novels and volleyballs, sipping spritzers, as the ocean uses all its strength to repeat

the same warning over and over?

The Quiet World

In an effort to get people to look
into each other’s eyes more,
and also to appease the mutes,
the government has decided
to allot each person exactly one hundred
and sixty-seven words, per day.

When the phone rings, I put it to my ear
without saying hello. In the restaurant
I point at chicken noodle soup.
I am adjusting well to the new way.

Late at night, I call my long distance lover,
proudly say I only used fifty-nine today.
I saved the rest for you.

When she doesn’t respond,
I know she’s used up all her words,
so I slowly whisper I love you
thirty-two and a third times.
After that, we just sit on the line
and listen to each other breathe.

There's two kinds of women--those you write poems about and those you don't.

We now know, and those are all the problems that we intend to fix with better communication plans. The draw exceeded everyone's limits.

All poetry has to do is to make a strong communication. All the poet has to do is listen. The poet is not an important fellow. There will also be another poet.