A life is not sufficiently elevated for poetry, unless, of course, the life has been made into an art.

No voice comes from outer space, from the folds of dust and carpets of wind to tell us that this is the way it was meant to happen, that if only we knew how long the ruins would last we would never complain.

I think the best American poetry is the poetry that utilizes the resources of poetry rather than exploits the defects or triumphs of the poet's personality.

And what does it matter when light enters the room where a child sleeps and the waking mother, opening her eyes, wishes more than anything to be unwakened by what she cannot name?

We all have reasons for moving. I move to keep things whole.

Ink runs from the corners of my mouth. There is no happiness like mine. I have been eating poetry.

Nothing is the destiny of everyone, it is our commonness made dumb.