In the poem "C," the crows are associated with cancer, because I had suffered a cancer scare.

In various memoir pieces, I have traced the trajectory of yearning through decisions made, good and bad, that had somehow kept the ambition on track.

I don't really get into the power sufficiently, and that's also a problem for me.

Poetry must speak of others, in order to speak for the poet's imagination, in order to speak of itself; it is slowed down by poetics after its flight is over.

You need to be distracted.

I came to realize this weird projection: you are much more passionate about hating something outside of you when you know that something is also in you.

I only submit the poems I think are the strongest.