It’s necessary to maintain a state of disobedience against…everything. One must remain somehow, though how, open to any subject or form in principle, open to the possibility of liking, open to the possibility of using. I try to maintain no continuous restrictions in my poetics except with regard to particular works, since writing at all means making some sort of choices. But NO DOCTRINES. Rather I tend to maintain a sense that a particular form or set of rules at a certain point might serve me for a while. Like many writers I feel ambivalent about words, I know they don’t work, I know they aren’t it. I don’t in the least feel that everything is language. I have a sense that there has been language from the beginning, that it isn’t fundamentally an invention. These are contradictory positions but positions are just words. I don’t believe that the best poems are just words, I think they’re the same as reality; I tend to think reality is poetry, and that it isn’t words. But words are one way to get at reality/poetry, what we’re in all the time. I think words are among us and everywhere else, mingling, fusing with, backing off from us and everything else.

If the signs were mythological creatures:

Aries: Werewolf
Taurus: Hell hound
Gemini: Doppelgänger
Cancer: Banshee
Leo: Fairy
Virgo: Silly Rabbit
Libra: Nymph
Scorpio: Siren
Sagittarius: Ghost
Capricorn: Mermaid
Aquarius: Vampire
Pisces: Shapeshifter