what
I would like to do is be as real in my writing as I am in life, and
I’m a fairly real character in life. I would like to come off the
page, and be alive and singing and telling the truth, and telling the
history, and at the same time making poetry out of it. I think of
that as being what twentieth-century free verse is all about. . . .
I
think that poetry is an act of problem solving, which means that if
there are no problems solved there is no poetry to be written. . . .
The
purpose of the poem is to complete an act that can’t be completed
in real life. . . .
what
real poetry was all about was creating a personal mythology rather
than simply participating in the mythology of your culture. . . .
that’s
of course our great quest: how to maintain the passion in its purest
and its most violent — and I think I use that word advisedly —
violent form. But have it in fact contained as an artifice. I don’t
want the snakes in my head to turn you to stone. I do not want the
heat of my anger to melt you into a puddle [laughter]. And yet I
don’t think that art can exist unless there is that power to turn
you to stone or to melt you to your gaseous elements. . . .
here’s
a little discrepancy in my work because male and female sexuality are
terribly important to me. If you’re going to ask me questions of
how do I resolve them, maybe that is the problem solving that I am
involved with because in some way I’ve always felt that it’s my
destiny to be the spirit. And yet what I chafe about most in life is
being treated as a spiritual person rather than a sex object
[laughter] and woman by the man that I love. But, and maybe that’s
what my poetry is really about, is, is, is this life journey between
the body and the spirit. There’s no easy answer to it. I don’t
think you become spirit by denying the flesh, and living in hair
shirts. And yet in some way you do become spirit by simply not
acknowledging the flesh. But again because we are body, that sounds
like denial. I don’t think denial is the answer. Because what
denial becomes in the physical son cutting off the head of the
father, or whatever physical act that happens. So, so . . . these are
problems that fascinate me, and perhaps what a lot of my poems are
about. How do you solve these problems? . . .
“Vision”
is what is most private, intimate, eccentric, unusual, unique,
visionary about the person. By definition it would have to be that
part of you which is somewhat repressed or put down because it
doesn’t fit in with the forms. But it may be not be forbidden . . .
it may not just be repressed or put down because of convention. It
may be in fact the part of you that you have to create that is
completely unique. In other words, the ability to create something
unique about yourself. And you can still be quite an acceptable human
being and a good member of society and a nice friend and a good lover
and any number of other things. But you probably can’t be a poet if
you can’t create yourself as unique in some way.