Perhaps This Very Instant Is Your Time.

I Don't Like Quintessential Certitude.

But Childhood Prolonged, Cannot Remain A Fairyland. It Becomes A Hell.

But It's Silly To Suggest The Writing Of Poetry Is Something Ethereal, A Sort Of Soul-crashing, Devastating Emotional Experience That Wrings You. I Have No Fancy Ideas About Poetry. ... It Doesn't Come To You On The Wings Of A Dove. It's Something You Have To Work Hard At.

Poetry Is Often Generations In Advance Of The Thought Of Its Time.

No More Pronouncements On Lousy Verse. No More Hidden Competition. No More Struggling Not To Be A Square.