Our masks, always in peril of smearing or cracking, in need of continuous check in the mirror or silverware, keep us in thrall to ourselves, concerned with our surfaces.
Carolyn KizerYou cannot meet someone for a moment, or even cast eyes on someone in the street, without changing. That is my subject.
Carolyn KizerPoems, to me, do not come from ideas, they come from a series of images that you tuck away in the back of your brain. Little photographic snapshots. Then you get the major vision of the poem, which is like a giant magnet to which all these disparate little impressions fly and adhere, and there is the poem!
Carolyn Kizer