Two Buckets Were Easier Carried

It Is Difficult At Times To Repress The Thought That History Is About As Instructive As An Abattoir.

Poetry Is Always Slightly Mysterious, And You Wonder What Is Your Relationship To It.

The Completely Solitary Self: That's Where Poetry Comes From, And It Gets Isolated By Crisis, And Those Crises Are Often Very Intimate Also.

The Bogholes Might Be Atlantic Seepage. The Wet Centre Is Bottomless.

Poetry Is Language In Orbit.