Poems are other people's snapshots in which we see our own lives.
One writes because one has been touched by the yearning for and the despair of ever touching the Other.
If the sky falls they shall have clouds for supper.
A 'truth' detached and purified of pleasures of ordinary life is not worth a damn in my view. Every grand theory and noble sentiment ought to be first tested in the kitchen-and then in bed, of course.
The poem I want to write is impossible. A stone that floats.
When people ask me how to find happiness in life I tell them, First learn how to cook.