come back believer in shade believer in silence and elegance believer in ferns believer in patience believer in the rain

I think there's a kind of desperate hope built into poetry that one really wants, hopelessly, to save the world. One is trying to say everything that can be said for the things that one loves while there's still time.

Modern poetry, for me, began not in English at all but in Spanish, in the poems of Lorca.

Send me out into another life lord because this one is growing faint I do not think it goes all the way

I also think that life itself is both indifferent to us and the source of all of our joys and everything that we love. And it's necessary to accept the one in order to love the other.

I had hardly begun to read I asked how can you ever be sure that what you write is really any good at all and he said you can't you can't you can never be sure you die without knowing whether anything you wrote was any good if you have to be sure don't write

I offer you what I have my Poverty