Cats have it all – admiration, an endless sleep, and company only when they want it.
It wasn’t a deliberate decision to become a poet. It was something I found myself doing – and loving. Language became an addiction.
That most unfortunate war, which I deeply deplore.
We need sex education in schools, but we need it at home first. We need parents to learn the names of the teachers who are teaching their children. We need families to question day-care centers, to question other children and their own as to what goes on.
It took me 14 years to write poems about Vietnam. I had never thought about writing about it, and in a way I had been systematically writing around it.
Through the years I have seen myself as a peaceful person, but the awareness of the anger is part of that process.
Poets are seen as the caretakers of language, so working with words no matter what the form is what we do.
It seems to me that it’s every man’s obligation to make what contribution he can. You live each day as best you can. That, to me, is what makes life interesting.
My great-grandfather Melvin had been a carpenter – so was my father – and they taught me the value of tools: saws, hammers, chisels, files and rulers. It all dealt with conciseness and precision. It eliminated guesswork. One has to know his tools, so he doesn’t work against himself.
I like what Oliver Lakes does on the saxophone. The saxophone comes pretty close to the sound of the human voice and when Oliver plays with other sax players, it’s like a dialogue.