Once Form Has Been Smashed, It Has

All Art, In Spite Of The Struggles Of Some Critics To Prove Otherwise, Is Based On Emotion And Projects Emotion.

At Midnight Tears Run Into Your Ears.

I Don't Like Quintessential Certitude.

But It's Silly To Suggest The Writing Of Poetry Is Something Ethereal, A Sort Of Soul-crashing, Devastating Emotional Experience That Wrings You. I Have No Fancy Ideas About Poetry. ... It Doesn't Come To You On The Wings Of A Dove. It's Something You Have To Work Hard At.

What We Suffer, What We Endure, What We Muff, What We Kill, What We Miss, What We Are Guilty Of, Is Done By Us, As Individuals, In Private.