I have piles of poetry books in the bathroom, on the stairs, everywhere. The only way to write poetry is to read it.
I write quite a lot of sonnets, and I think of them almost as prayers: short and memorable, something you can recite.
When you have a child, your previous life seems like someone else's. It's like living in a house and suddenly finding a room you didn't know was there, full of treasure and light.
I'll be left writing picture books and fairy tales.
Like the sand and the oyster, it's a creative irritant. In each poem, I'm trying to reveal a truth, so it can't have a fictional beginning.
We will tire each other out, making our homes in one anotherβs arms.
