A Poem Has Secrets That The Poet

A Poet Needs To Keep His Wilderness Alive Inside Him.

You Must Be Careful Not To Deprive The Poem Of Its Wild Origin.

What Makes The Engine Go? Desire, Desire, Desire.

...few Young Poets [are] Testing Their Poems Against The Ear. They're Writing For The Page, And The Page, Let Me Tell You, Is A Cold Bed.

Live In The Layers, Not On The Litter.