And Thames and all the rivers of the kings Ran into Mississippi and were drowned. They planted England with a stubborn trust But the cleft dust was never English dust.

Money is sullen And wisdom is sly, But youth is the pollen That blows through the sky And does not ask why.

Truth is a hard deer to hunt. If you eat too much truth at once, you might die of the truth.

You can take off your hats now, gentlemen, and I think perhaps you'd better.

Most of the time I'm not really attracted to writing that's focused on filling and fighting it out within a well-defined container. I like work that gets out in the world and lets the world shape the poem.

We thought we were done with these things but we were wrong. We thought, because we had power, we had wisdom.

I tried to think of my knowledge, but it was a squirrel's heap of winter nuts. There was no strength in my knowledge any more and I felt small and naked as a new-hatched bird.