I started off in England and very few people knew I was Australian. I mean, the clues were in the poems, but they didn't read them very carefully, and so for years and years I was considered completely part of the English poetry scene.

I am moving deeper into my own brain.

Auden is an accomplished rhymer and Shakespeare is not.

It is Australian innocence to love The naturally excessive and be proud Of a thoroughbred gelding who ran fast.

An old art spreading rumours about / Paradise, it begs outside the gates / Of the gods: the active gods come out.

Poetry is either language lit up by life or life lit up by language

I have no fondness for pure form at all.