In Every House Of Marriage There's Room

I Want To Write Poems That Are Natural, Luminous, Deep, Spare. I Dream Of An Art So Transparent That You Can Look Through And See The World.

End With An Image And Don't Explain.

...few Young Poets [are] Testing Their Poems Against The Ear. They're Writing For The Page, And The Page, Let Me Tell You, Is A Cold Bed.

I Dance/for The Joy Of Surviving, At The Edge Of The Road.

A Poet Needs To Keep His Wilderness Alive Inside Him. To Remain A Poet After Forty Requires An Awareness Of Your Darkest Africa, That Part Of Yourself That Will Never Be Tamed.