What We Suffer, What We

The Poem Is Always The Last Resort. In It The Poet Makes A World In Little, And Finds Peace, Even Though, Under Complete Focused Emotion, The Evocation Be Far More Bitter Than Reality, Or Far More Lovely.

It Is Through The Acceptance Of A Variety Of Aethetic And Intellectual Points Of View That A Culture Is Given Breadth And Density.

It Is Almost Impossible For The Poetess, Once Laurelled, To Take Off The Crown For Good Or To Reject Values And Taste Of Those Who Tender It.

Once Form Has Been Smashed, It Has Been Smashed For Good, And Once A Forbidden Subject Has Been Released, It Has Been Released For Good.

O Remember In Your Narrowing Dark Hours That More Things Move Than Blood In The Heart.