
Many young poets can not accept that telling a story, or relating some sort of narrative arc is conducive to the highest aims of poetry.
Picasso wrote this well before Mary Ruefle started publishing books, but if his words could be an egg, Ruefle’s Selected Poems would hatch right out of it.
Ashbery’s translation is the best we have in English so far.
The poetry lesson is that poetry is a practice.
All acts of observation are partial and reveal as much about the observer as the observed.
[What do animals dream?]
[In a Familiar City]
[Blue Note]
[Known Quantity]
[Love-Busker]
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