Humans, not places, make memories.

Once an interesting idea or theme occurs to me then I would want to write a poem about it. The rest, frankly, is not difficult.

At the age of 15, a teacher had asked me what I wanted to do for a career, and without knowing why or even how I replied that I wanted to be a poet.

I've written poems about gifts. Life is inspirational; sometimes it comes from the most unlikely places.

The very old certainly do not go back on lunch remains but they do bite back at old conversational topics.

Things are working out... towards their dazzling conclusions.

money-making is like a god possessing a priest. He never will leave you, until he has occupied you, wholly changed the order of your being, and seared you through and up and down. Then only would he eventually leave you, but nothing of you except an exhausted wreck, lying prone and wondering who are you.