If the poem has no obvious destination, there's a chance that we'll be all setting off on an interesting ride.

The point of poetry is to be acutely discomforting, to prod and provoke, to poke us in the eye, to punch us in the nose, to knock us off our feet, to take our …

Form is a straitjacket in the way that a straitjacket was a straitjacket for Houdini.

Words want to find chimes with each other, things want to connect.

The one...thing which mattered about any poem (so ran my second poetic period's credo) was what the poem said; it's socalled meaning.... Thus it will be seen t…

Like a piece of ice on a hot stove the poem must ride on its own melting...Read it a hundred times; it will forever keep its freshness as a metal keeps its fra…

Is there a poem that never reaches words And one that chaffers the time away? Is the poem both peculiar and general? There's a meditation there, in which there…