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?

Many fairy tales and ballads present us with animals who are nobler, truer, and kinder than the greedy human beings who desire to possess them. I guess I tend to read these stories as very early (and possibly unconscious) feminist texts.

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.

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

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

I think happy, companionate marriages between men and women who respect each other (as far as is consistent with being actual human beings) should be every bit as poetry-worthy as angst, bitterness, and shame.