The Rift, which was well over a thousand pages of manuscript, took two years.

I starved and slept on park benches. I wrapped myself in the pages of my manuscript to keep warm. For two and a half years I took odd jobs; nothing was going to deter me.

The chariot was purchased by a private collector who took it home to New York. I take pleasure in knowing that it was built to last for at least a thousand years.

Let my life as Poet begin. I want the life of the Poet. I have labored for over twelve years, one thousand pages of prose. Now, I want the easiness of poetry. The brevity of the poem.

I've wept for Haiti a thousand times over the years since my first trip during the Duvalier reign.

I decided I can't pay a person to rewind time, so I may as well get over it.