I Have Always Thought Of Poems As

Once Off The Bush The Fruit Fermented, The Sweet Flesh Would Turn Sour. I Always Felt Like Crying. It Wasn't Fair That All The Lovely Canfuls Smelt Of Rot. Each Year I Hoped They'd Keep, Knew They Would Not. -blackberry Picking

Even If The Hopes You Started Out With Are Dashed, Hope Has To Be Maintained.

My Teaching Was Animated By What I Was Reading And Being Excited By As A Poet.

It Has As Much To Do With The Energy Released By Linguistic Fission And Fusion, With The Buoyancy Generated By Cadence And Tone And Rhyme And Stanza, As It Has To Do With The Poem's Concerns Or The Poet's Truthfulness.

God Is A Foreman With Certain Definite Views Who Orders Life In Shifts Of Work And Leisure.