A great many people seem to think writing poetry is worthwhile, even though it pays next to nothing and is not as widely read as it should be.

And Robert Lowell, of course - in his poems, we're not located in his actual life. We're located more in the externals, in the journalistic facts of his life.

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

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

The reality of a poem is a very ghostly one. It suggests, it suggests, it suggests again.

We are reading the story of our lives As though we were in it As though we had written it.

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