Poetry is the language of extremity. Poetry is a transfer of potency. You feel something potent and then you transfer it onto the page.
The lyric self is the self; the narrative self is not.
Memory is sweet. Even when it’s painful, memory is sweet.
The knowledge that it takes to write a poem gets burnt up in the writing of the poem.
In writing poetry, all of one's attention is focused on some inner voice.
A door jumps out from shadows, then jumps away. This is what I've come to find: the back door, unlatched. Tooled by insular wind, it slams and slams without meaning to and without meaning.