I see woefully obscure poetry as simply a kind of verbal rudeness.

I stared up at the ebbing quarter moon and the stars scattered like a handful of salt across the faraway sky.

There's this pet phrase about writing that is bandied around particularly in workshops about "finding your own voice as a poet", which I suppose means that you come out from under the direct influence of other poets and have perhaps found a way to combine those influences so that it appears to be your own voice. But I think you could also put it a different way. You, quote, find your voice, unquote, when you are able to invent this one character who resembles you, obviously, and probably is more like you than anyone else on earth, but is not the equivalent to you.

…balancing the wish to be lost with the need to be found.

The poem is not, as someone put it, deflective of entry. But the real question is, 'What happens to the reader once he or she gets inside the poem?' That's the real question for me, is getting the reader into the poem and then taking the reader somewhere, because I think of poetry as a kind of form of travel writing.

And I should mention the light which falls through the big windows this time of day italicizing everything it touches.

One of these days I'm-a make me a book out of you.