A public expectation, it has to be said, not of poetry as such but of political positions variously approvable by mutually disapproving groups.

If self is a location, so is love: Bearings taken, markings, cardinal points, Options, obstinacies, dug heels, and distance, Here and there and now and then, a stance.

Walk on air against your better judgement.

The end of art is peace.

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

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

Behaviour that's admired is the path to power among people everywhere.