Truth Rings No Bells.

There Can Be No Literary Equivalent To Truth.

Much Of The Magical Effect That Poetry Gives Of Rendering Everything It Touches Pellucid Comes From The Necessity Of Compression That It Imposes. The Impossibility Of Pausing In Poetry As Long As May Be Needed To Make Sense Clear Causes Many A Set Of Words Actually Deficient In Linguistic Workmanship To Pass For An Eloquent Brevity.

Daisy Was A Consciously Happy Young Woman Without Any Of The Usual Endowments That Make For Conscious Happiness, Money Apart. She Was Not Pretty, She Was Not Clever, She Had No Friends, No Talents, Nor Even An Imagination To Make Her Think She Was Happy When She Was Really Miserable. As She Was Never Miserable, She Had No Need Of An Imagination.

The Anthology Meets With Two Different Kinds Of Reactions In Living Poets. They Will Either Write Toward The Anthology Or Away From It. Anti-anthology Poets Often Overreach Themselves, Inflicting Protective Distortions On Their Work - As Parents In Old Central Europe Often Deliberately Maimed Their Sons To Save Them From Compulsory Military Service.

Poetry Is A Sleep-maker For That Which Sits Up Late In Us Listening For The Footfall Of The Future On To-day's Doorstep.