Now I think poetry will save nothing from oblivion, but I keep writing about the ordinary because for me it's the home of the extraordinary, the only home.
My earliest poems were a way of talking to somebody. I suppose to myself.
Back then, I couldn't have left a poem a year and gone back to it.
The irony is, going to work every day became the subject of probably my best poetry.
I find you in these tears, few, useless and here at last. Don't come back.
No one can write like Vallejo and not sound like a fraud. He's just too much himself and not you.