How Weightless/ Words Are When Nothing Will

I Find You In These Tears, Few, Useless And Here At Last. Don't Come Back.

I'm Seventy-one Now, So It's Hard To Imagine A Dramatic Change.

Now I Think Poetry Will Save Nothing From Oblivion, But I Keep Writing About The Ordinary Because For Me It's The Home Of The Extraordinary, The Only Home.

I Realized Poetry's The Thing That I Can Do 'cause I Can Stick At It And Work With Tremendous Intensity.

There'll Always Be Working People In My Poems Because I Grew Up With Them, And I Am A Poet Of Memory.