The city and nature, the built stone and the found stone, concrete and slate, poetry addresses them all democratically.

I want, I want, I want! We never grow out of it somehow. Unless we become Buddhists, maybe.

For a while they wore suits or pants suits, and pants suits are kind of a women's appropriation of male costume, work costume. For me, it wasn't Western feminism or the Western workspace. It was my growing up in a house with a bunch of boys, so that male costuming just became my mode of appropriation way before, you know, Betty Friedan came along.

In short, for me - I'm kind of projecting onto you - distraction has become a modus vivendi, a way of life. Rather than complaining, I am recognizing that I couldn't do what I wanted to do because I'm distracted.

The crows live in the world like you do. They are part of nature.

John Milton famously claimed, "Fame is the spur" for the poet, and indeed when we consider the six years he spent writing Paradise Lost, and the additional years revising it, from 1664 to 1674, we may allow that spur.

I'm not sure why my muse is female, except when I am deliberately playing against that figure.