The medium of poetry is a human body: the column of air inside the chest, shaped into signifying sounds in the larynx and the mouth. In this sense, poetry is just as physical or bodily an art as dancing.

In the particular presence of memorable language we can find a reminder of our ability to know and retain knowledge itself: the brightness wherein all things come to see.

I have always been thinking about the sounds and shades and aromas of words - fitting them together or disrupting their customary march - more or less every second of my life, waking and sleeping.

Poetry’s medium is the individual chest and throat and mouth of whoever undertakes to say the poem.

To talk about the reality of life here and the work that you do here at the university.

When I had no roof I made audacity my roof.

Autobiography is a genre notorious for falsehood.