The People Who Live In A Golden

Whether They Write Poems Or Don't Write Poems, Poets Are Best.

The Ways We Miss Our Lives Are Life.

In Heaven All Reviews Will Be Favorable; Here On Earth, The Publisher Realizes, Plausibility Demands An Occasional Bad One, Some Convincing Lump In All That Leaven, And He Accepts It Somewhat As A Theologian Accepts Evil.

A Successful Poem Says What A Poet Wants To Say, And More, With Particular Finality. The Remarks He Makes About His Poems Are Incidental When The Poem Is Good, Or Embarrassing Or Absurd When It Is Bad And He Is Not Permitted To Say How The Good Poem Is Good, And May Never Know How The Bad Poem Is Bad. It Is Better To Write About Other People's Poetry.

I Shook Myself; I Was Dreaming. As I Went To Bed The Words Of The Eighth-grade Class's Teacher, When The Class Got To Evangeline , Kept Echoing In My Ears: "we're Coming To A Long Poem Now, Boys And Girls. Now Don't Be Babies And Start Counting The Pages." I Lay There Like A Baby, Counting The Pages Over And Over, Counting The Pages.