When Anyone Escapes, My Heart / Leaps

One Of The Duties Of A Baseball Fan Is To Engage In Arguments With The Man Behind Him.

The Amount Of Horror One Used To Hear About In One Village Could Be Quite Extreme. But One Might Not Have Heard About All The Other Villages' Horrors At The Same Time.

Once You Lose Someone It Is Never Exactly The Same Person Who Comes Back.

I'm Not Asking A Poem To Carry A Lot Of Rocks In Its Pockets. Just Being An Ordinary Observer And Liver And Feeler And Letting The Experience Get Through You Onto The Notebook With The Pen, Through The Arm, Out Of The Body, Onto The Page, Without Distortion.

Every Poet I Know - Although There May Be Some I Don't Know Who Lead Very Different Lives, Who Maybe Live In The Country And Don't Teach - Tends To Be Just Like The Rest Of Us: Just Really Busy, Really Overcommitted.