There’s no preparation for poetry.

Found objects, chance creations, ready-mades (mass-produced items promoted into art objects, such as Duchamp's "Fountain"-urinal as sculpture) abolish the separation between art and life. The commonplace is miraculous if rightly seen.

Making art in America is about saving one's soul.

There’s no preparation for poetry.

One writes because one has been touched by the yearning for and the despair of ever touching the Other.

When people ask me how to find happiness in life I tell them, First learn how to cook.

Words make love on the page like flies in the summer heat and the poet is only the bemused spectator.