There is risk and truth to yourselves and the world before you.

Is there life before death? That’s chalked upIn Ballymurphy. Competence with pain,Coherent miseries, a bite and a sup,We hug our little destiny again.

I suppose I'm saying that defiance is actually part of the lyric job

So you drive on to the frontier of writingwhere it happens again.

Anything can happen, the tallest towersBe overturned, those in high places daunted,Those overlooked regarded.

I rhymeTo see myself

words...To lure the tribal shoals to epigram / And order.

Next thing he spoke and I nearly said I loved him.

The experimental poetry thing is not my thing. It's a programme of the avant-garde: basically a refusal of the kind of poetry I write.