Poetry, that is to say the poetic, is a primal necessity.

The heart that gives, gathers.

Excess is the common substitute for energy.

I never 'plan' a stanza. Words cluster like chromosomes, determining the procedure.

Impatience is the mark of independence, not of bondage.

My father used to say, "Superior people never make long visits, have to be shown Longfellows grave, or the glass flowers at Harvard."

Men are monopolists of "stars, garters, buttons and other shining baubles"- unfit to be the guardians of another person's happiness.