An Object, After All, Is What Makes

By Failing To Read Or Listen To Poets, Society Dooms Itself To Inferior Modes Of Articulation, Those Of The Politician, The Salesman, Or The Charlatan. In Other Words, It Forfeits Its Own Evolutionary Potential. For What Distinguishes Us From The Rest Of The Animal Kingdom Is Precisely The Gift Of Speech. Poetry Is Not A Form Of Entertainment And In A Certain Sense Not Even A Form Of Art, But It Is Our Anthropological, Genetic Goal. Our Evolutionary, Linguistic Beacon.

This Is The Generation Whose First Cry Of Life Was The Hungarian Uprising.

How Delightful To Find A Friend In Everyone.

Every Individual Ought To Know At Least One Poet From Cover To Cover: If Not As A Guide Through The World, Then As A Yardstick For The Language.

In America, A Metrical Poem Is Likely To Conjure Up The Idea Of The Sort Of Poet Who Wears Ties And Lunches At The Faculty Club. In Russia It Suggests The Moral Force Of An Art Practiced Against The Greatest Personal Odds, As A Discipline, Solitary And Intense.