imagination and integrity

A poem in which the bravura of the imagination is matched by the integrity of the verisimilitude.

one or undone

A line of poetry should have integrity or else it should unravel extravagantly.

step into the same poem twice

Once a poem has appeared in print, I leave it alone. I can count on the fingers of one hand the published poems I have altered in any substantial way for subsequent reprintings. A poem seems to me to have an integrity born of its moment of creation that should be respected. The “later me” who might want to word things differently is no longer the same person who wrote that poem; I don’t entirely trust her impulse to meddle with it. Let her write her own poems.

I took me some years for me to realize that not all poets operate this way: that for some, the text of the poem is something considerably more fluid and mutable, even after it has appeared in print. One fellow poet recently quoted to me what she says was the watchword at a graduate writing program she attended in the United States: “It’s all a draft until you die.”

—Robyn Sarah, “Abandonment and After,” Little Eurekas: A Decade’s Thoughts on Poetry (Biblioasis, 2007)

author of itself

A poem should have the virulent integrity of Coriolanus.

resilient design

Even if in typesetting two or three lines got dropped the integrity of the poem would not be damaged.

stands thus

A stand-alone stanza.

fragile lines

As though written on tissue paper the poem felt as if it could come apart at any moment.