At last you kissed me, I could die in waves again, and one good lick of quicksand took.
Heather McHughI think one of poetry's functions is not to give us what we want... The poet isn't always of use to the tribe. The tribe thrives on the consensual. The tribe is pulling together to face the intruder who threatens it. Meanwhile, the poet is sitting by himself in the graveyard talking to a skull.
Heather McHugh