It is difficult at times to repress the thought that history is about as instructive as an abattoir; that Tacitus was right and that peace is merely the desolation left behind after the decisive operations of merciless power.

In fact, in lyric poetry, truthfulness becomes recognizable as a ring of truth within the medium itself.

Walk on air against your better judgement.

Don't be surprised if I demur, for, be advised my passport's green.

Nowadays, what an award gives is a sense of solidarity with the poetry guild, as it were: sustenance coming from the assent of your peers on the judging panel.

I can't think of a case where poems changed the world, but what they do is they change people's understanding of what's going on in the world.

Poetry is language in orbit.