When I was young, a small town swallowed me whole. Now, I can swallow a small town whole.

Writing a poem is like walking a dog: It stops a lot when you want it to keep going, and if you’re not careful it will shit on your feet.

We have to stop assuming God is a capitalist who wants us all the be rich.

Go froth and conquer.

I am convinced we are less interested in saying something original than in saying something that has origins.

This poet generates a simple, random sentence.

“I’ll have to take your computer away if it makes you cry too much.” — Jon Martin

One of the criteria I had for culling my Facebook contacts this morning was: “If I saw you in public, would I hide from you?” If I answered no to that question, you are still here.

I just misread the phrase “Candid Camera” as “Candida Camera.”

I derive my power in part from the fact that you don’t know what I am capable of, but I do know what you are capable of.