“I have sympathy for young people, for their growing pains, but I balk when these…” — Wislawa Szymborska

After every war someone has to tidy up.

I usually write for the individual reader -though I would like to have many such readers. There are some poets who write for people assembled in big rooms, so they can live through something collectively. I prefer my reader to take my poem and have a one-on-one relationship with it.

I cannot speak for more than an hour exclusively about poetry. At that point, life itself takes over again.

In the language of poetry, where every word is weighed, nothing is usual or normal. Not a single stone and not a single cloud above it. Not a single day and not a single night after it. And above all, not a single existence, not anyone's existence in this world.