My education was the liberty I had to read indiscriminately and all the time, with my eyes hanging out.

The best craftsmanship always leaves holes and gaps... so that something that is not in the poem can creep, crawl, flash or thunder in.

Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means, Time held me green and dying Though I sang in my chains like the sea.

The only sea I saw Was the seesaw sea With you riding on it. Lie down, lie easy. Let me shipwreck in your thighs.

Don't be too harsh to these poems until they're typed. I always think typescript lends some sort of certainty: at least, if the things are bad then, they appear to be bad with conviction.

It snowed last year too: I made a snowman and my brother knocked it down and I knocked my brother down and then we had tea.

Rage, rage against the dying light