He knew that hair couldn't feel; he kissed her hair.

And may my bronze name / touch always her thousand fingers / grow brighter with her weeping / until I am fixed like a galaxy / and memorized / in her secret and fragile skies.

It just takes a long time for me [to write a song]. I'm very slow. And it comes, kind of, by dribbles and drops.

The winter has not killed usagain!

Any of the decisions that I made, if one could actually locate a shape or form, were all within a wall, the landscape of music.

I alwaysthought of myself as a competent, minor poet. I know who I'm up against.

I would like to work with Pat [ Leonard] in any capacity. I would love to hear his versions.