My poems are more my silence than my speech. Just as music is a kind of quiet. Sounds are needed only to unveil the various layers of silence.

The way a source strains toward the light, toward the air. Its laboring work, its effort, its black passageways like despair. That’s the way a poet looks for words. With muscles, gestures.

Poetry is a presentiment of the truth.

Where your pain is, there your heart lies also.

Tell me what's the difference

We cling to words like drowning men to straws. But still we drown, we drown.

I don’t write poetry when I wish, I write when I can’t, when my larynx is flooded and my throat is shut.