This is the last book I read before stopping for a while. Since I cannot take in poetry at all at the moment, I just read his prose comments on each writer.
Anthony Wilson set himself a task of writing out one poem from each writer who meant the most to him. He then explained why he made those choices on his blog several years ago.
Really the book is about Poetry Exhaustion. He knows of several varieties of it. Arriving for no reason. Arriving after being 'too ready to follow every whim', ie reading too much, sheer greediness. There must be others.
'all we really have as poets is the process' page 122
The book is stuffed with names of poets and collections, so it would be helpful for anyone at a loss to know what to read next.
My problem is that even a few words are too dense, I don't want them. The night sky and the full moon is enough. Music in the car and the Proms on Radio 3. All my ill friends.
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