There is the view that poetry should improve your life. I think people confuse it with the Salvation Army.

I think that in the process of writing, all kinds of unexpected things happen that shift the poet away from his plan and that these accidents are really what we mean when we talk about poetry.

I'm heading for a clean-named place like Wisconsin, and mad as a jack-o'-lantern, will get there without help and nosy proclivities.

Until, accustomed to disappointments, you can let yourself rule and be ruled by these strings or emanations that connect everything together, you haven't fully exorcised the demon of doubt that sets you in motion like a rocking horse that cannot stop rocking.

The summer demands and takes away too much. /But night, the reserved, the reticent, gives more than it takes

There is the view that poetry should improve your life. I think people confuse it with the Salvation Army.

The soul establishes itself. But how far can it swim out through the eyes And still return safely to its nest?