After getting disappointing news about yet another fellowship, I was thinking I ought to be done with poetry. Whatever I do, I can’t seem to hold it right for very long. I have all these thoughts and ideals about what I think Poetry should be. Sometimes I really do operate out of that ideal. I remember that poetry isn’t about making me somebody. It doesn’t exist to put me in a job or a book deal. I remember that poetry isn’t the goal at all, but a way to tune into the goal, a way to talk about the goal, re-think the goal. Poetry is supposed to serve humanity, to teach us about each other and ourselves, and to make us pay attention to the world. Poetry is supposed to (in my mind) cause us to forgive, to spur us, to quiet us, to jar us. Poetry should make us wonder…