I Love To Move Like A Mouse

I Always Think W.s. Merwin's Poems Will Last Of Anyone Writing Today. If I Had To Bet On Posterity I Would Bet Merwin. My Poems Could Easily Evaporate. So I Don't Know. If You Find Yourself As A Writer Thinking About Posterity You Should Probably Go Out For A Brisk Walk Or Something.

A Sentence Starts Out Like A Lone Traveler Heading Into A Blizzard At Midnight, Tilting Into The Wind, One Arm Shielding His Face, The Tails Of His Thin Coat Flapping Behind Him.

I Can Hear The Library Humming In The Night, A Choir Of Authors Murmuring Inside Their Books Along The Unlit, Alphabetical Shelves, Giovanni Pontano Next To Pope, Dumas Next To His Son, Each One Stitched Into His Own Private Coat, Together Forming A Low, Gigantic Chord Of Language.

More Often Than Not In Poetry I Find Difficulty To Be Gratuitous And Show-offy And Camouflaging, Experimental To A Kind Of Insane Degree - A Difficulty Which Really Ignores The Possibility Of Having A Sensible Reader.

Now I Would Say At Any Given Moment In American Life, There Are Probably 45 Poets In Airplanes Vectoring Across The Country Heading Towards...i Don't Know If Anyone's Reading It, But Poets Are Still Flying Around The Country Going From Lectern To Lectern.that Circuitry Has Become Very Well-established.