In off the moors, down through the mist beams, god-cursed Grendel came greedily loping.
Best to say that once a poem is finished I trust it to make its way, and I trust readers will find their way to it and through it, if the thing has got itself rightly expressed.
Behaviour that's admired is the path to power among people everywhere.
The way we are living, timorous or bold, will have been our life.
My body was braille for the creeping influences.
The gift of writing is to be self-forgetful... to get a surge of inner life or inner supply or unexpected sense of empowerment, to be afloat, to be out of yourself.