You have to be free to play around with the notion that day might be night, love might be hate; nothing can be too sacred for the imagination to turn into its opposite or to call experimentally by another name. For writing is re-naming.

I think many poets, including myself, write both for the voice and for the page. I certainly write for the person alone in the library, who pulls down a book and it opens to a poem. I am also very conscious of what it means to read these poems aloud.

...you look at me like an emergency

Grief held back from the lips wears at the heart; the drop that refused to join the river dried up in the dust.

Nothing could have prepared me for the realization that I was a mother ... when I knew I was still in a state of uncreation myself.

If we had time and no money, living by our wits, what story would you tell?

I choose to love this time for once with all my intelligence -from "Splittings