I prefer the absurdity of writing poems to the absurdity of not writing poems.

Contemporary poets are skeptical and suspicious even, or perhaps especially, about themselves. They publicly confess to being poets only reluctantly, as if they were a little ashamed of it. But in our clamorous times it's much easier to acknowledge your faults, at least if they're attractively packaged, than to recognize your own merits, since these are hidden deeper and you never quite believe in them yourself.

I am who I am. A coincidence no less unthinkable than any other.

No one feels good at four in the morning. If ants feel good at four in the morning —three cheers for the ants.

Even boredom should be described with gusto. How many things are happening on a day when nothing happens?

But they know about us, they know, the four corners, and the chairs nearby us. Discerning shadows also know, and even the table keeps quiet.

When I mention somebody, that doesn't necessarily mean that I identify with him, personally or poetically. I'm extremely happy when I encounter poets who are different than I am. The ones who have their own distinct poetics provide me with the greatest experiences.