Gardens do offer a temporal tableau and certainly mean differently in different eras and indeed geographies (think of the formal gardens in France).

I spend a lot of time revising. I'm not somebody who can move slowly.

Our mind is dark in some way, and so we use rhetoric as a kind of prop or foil.

I've always been interested in the fragility of things, and with special urgency now because of climate change, but also because of the accidents of reading.

One of the things I've always thought is that if I were to write a poetics, it would have to do with the poetics of failure, and the way in which all the things that you claim or that you try for are already based on the limits of language.

A number of poems don't work alone. They need to fit together to work.

Shakespeare, of course, makes us ever aware of transience, not only in the sonnets, but also powerfully in his plays - spectacles for a brief period of time and then gone, as when Prospero describes the pageant fading, leaving "not a rack behind."