I don't trust them but I'm learning to use them.

In order to live a fully human life we require not only control of our bodies (though control is a prerequisite); we must touch the unity and resonance of our physicality, our bond with the natural order, the corporeal grounds of our intelligence.

I've known great happiness in my life along with great darkness, and a question that has repeatedly entered my poetry has been, how do we use the direct experience of happiness that may be given us, whether of love and sexuality or creativity or the sense of connectedness with other beings, human and otherwise?

Sleeping. Turning in turn like planets rotating in their midnight meadow: a touch is enough to let us know we're not alone in the universe, even in sleep.

For now, poetry has the capacity - in its own ways and by its own means - to remind us of something we are forbidden to see.

What we see, we see and seeing is changing

Art means nothing if it simply decorates the dinner table of power which holds it hostage.