To try to expunge an individual's history is a terrible violation.
A problem with a piece of writing often clarifies itself if you go for a long walk.
Mourning Ruby is not a flat landscape: it is more like a box with pictures painted on every face. And each face is also a door which opens, I hope, to take the reader deep into the book.
Those who try to obliterate the past are injuring the present.
Poets go through a very tough apprenticeship in the use of words.
I can remember being in my pram: children stayed in their prams much longer then than they do now. A big bouncy pram with black covers and a hood with metal clips that could trap your fingers. I was looking up at my sister who was sitting on the pram seat, with her back to me.