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- Poetry is innocent, not wise. It does not learn from experience, because each poetic experience is unique. — Karl Shapiro
- The body, what is it, Father, but a sign To love the force that grows us, to give back What in Thy palm is senselessness and mud? — Karl Shapiro
- But with exquisite breathing you smile, with satisfaction of love, And I touch you again as you tick in the silence and settle in sleep. — Karl Shapiro
- Lastly, his tomb shall list and founder in the troughs of grass. And none shall speak his name. — Karl Shapiro
- In the tight belly of the dead, Burrow with hungry head, And inlay maggots like a jewel. — Karl Shapiro
- The good poet sticks to his real loves, those within the realm of possibility. He never tries to hold hands with God or the human race. — Karl Shapiro