And what of the dead? They lie without shoes in the stone boats. They are more like stone than the sea would be if it stopped. They refuse to be blessed, throat, eye and knucklebone.

Emerald as heavy as a golf course, ruby as dark as an afterbirth, diamond as white as sun on the sea.

The sanest thing in this world is love.

It's a little mad, but I believe I am many people. When I am writing a poem, I feel I am the person who should have written it.

Letters are false really - they are expressions of the way you wish you were instead of the way you are.

Once I was beautiful. Now I am myself, Counting this row and that row of moccasins Waiting on the silent shelf.

Craft is a trick you make up to let you write the poem.