Poetry, When It Takes Sides,

The Birds Are Silent In The Woods. / Just Wait: Soon Enough / You Will Be Quiet Too

Justice Is The Well Water Of The City Of Novgorod, Black And Sweet.

As An Artist, You Have The Job Of Working Out Whatever Is Given You To Work Out.

I Think That Were I In The Middle Of An Obsession To Write About, Say, Sudden Oak Death In California Or My Grandchildren Or Time And Memory And How They Look When You Get To Be In Your Sixties, And I Thought, "well, Yes But People Are Dying Every Day In Baghdad," I Wouldn't Feel Guilty About Not Writing About Baghdad If I Didn't Have Any Good Ideas About How To Write About It.

Poetry Is A Man Arguing With Himself; Rhetoric Is A Man Arguing With Others.