Quotes from Heather McHugh

I('m the woman who) always forgot where she was-in a state, in a sentence.

So what are your poems about? They're about ... how nothing is about, they're not about about. --Heather McHugh, 20-200 on 747

The day they brought him forth to die they feared he might incite the crowd (the man was famous for his eloquence). And so his captors placed upon his face an iron mask in which he could not speak. That is how they burned him. That is how he died, without a word, in front of everyone.

The foetus, expert at attachment, didn't dream that cramped canal would open into sound and light and love - it clung. It didn't care. The future looked like death to it, from there.

At last you kissed me, I could die in waves again, and one good lick of quicksand took...