Love Doesn't Need A Reason. Hate Needs

My Poems Always Begin With A Metaphor, But My Way Into The Metaphor May Be A Word, An Image, Even A Sound. And I Rarely Know The Nature Of The Metaphor When I Begin To Write, But There Is An Attentiveness That A Writer Develops, A Sudden Alertness That Is Much Like The Feel Of A Fish Brushing Against A Hook.

Love Doesn't Need A Reason. Hate Needs A Reason.

I Remember Coming Upon Philip Larkin In My 20s In The Early '60s And When Sylvia Plath's "ariel" Came Out It Knocked Me Off My Feet.

I Can't Believe There Is A Poet Who Hasn't Eagerly Put Down A Word One Day, Only To Erase It The Next Day Deciding It Was Sheer Lunacy. It's Part Of The Process Of Selection.

There's A Welsh Poet, R.s. Thomas. He Was A Very Crotchety, Strange Man, But His Poems Are Wonderful. He Was Nominated For The Nobel In The 1990s But Never Won.