Write whatever you like!

Then as the years went on and my listening became more deliberate, I would climb up on an arm of our big sofa to get my ear closer to the wireless speaker.

I rhyme… to see myself, to set the darkness echoing.

At home in Ireland, there's a habit of avoidance, an ironical attitude towards the authority figure.

The main thing is to write for the joy of it. Cultivate a work-lust that imagines its haven like your hands at night dreaming the sun in the sunspot of a breast. You are fasted now, light-headed, dangerous. Take off from here.

Between my finger and my thumb The squat pen rests; snug as a gun. ~from the poem "Digging

I drink to keep body and soul apart.