River

An element of guilt creates a state in us in which we note only imperfections.

Never able to recreate the energy of the original, we create substitutes, act as secondary sources, accept imitations of imitations, and celebrate poets unable or unwilling to tap into emotional wellsprings.

Looking into the mirror, we can see why someone may not like us.

The glass, as noted by John Black, is neither half empty or half full; the glass itself does not exist.

And so waking from a dream at 3:42 a.m. in which one finds oneself drowning in a sleight spasm of inspiration, it is perfectly acceptable to rise and rub out the cramp in ones right calf, resisting the temptation to stay awake and write, and instead go back to sleep.

Each of us has sinned, having at least one secret of which we're so ashamed that it could never be shared on Facebook. And most of us have done more wrong than right.

And if a poet is someone like Rae Armantrout who chooses to express no emotion in a poem, that someone has the right.

By a poet, we mean the writing of someone of which we're not sure what is said but that what is said has some effect.