I can't rhyme for little green apples. What I can do is scan and make patterns.

Not all animal brides are doomed. Not all men are greedy or violent or possessive.

I can't rhyme for little green apples. What I can do is scan and make patterns.

Poetry, for me, conveys the essence of narrative rather than its particulars.

I've always loved stories of animals and birds that can appear to be human, just by taking off their skins or their feathers.

Aren't we most aware of our animal natures when love or hunger or hatred burns through reason and encourages us to do exactly what we desire to do, with frequently tragic results?

What was the good of dreaming of adventure if you turned your back on the first one that came your way?