Like the sand and the oyster, it's a creative irritant. In each poem, I'm trying to reveal a truth, so it can't have a fictional beginning.

I always say that I'll have a go and see whether the poem works and if it does, then fine.

My prose is turgid, it just hasn't got any energy

Time hates love, wants love poor,/but love spins gold, gold, gold from straw.

I like to use simple words, but in a complicated way.

The stars are filming us for no one.

I always wanted a child. Being a mother is the central thing in my life.