Soon I hope to live in a totally rubber house. Think how quickly I will be able to get from room to room! One good bounce and you’re there. I have a friend whose hands were melted off by a firebomb during the war. Now, once again, he will learn to pass the bread at the dinner table. Learning is life. I hope to invite him over this evening in fact. Learning is the same colour as life. He says things like that.
“When we say form, we would seem to be referring to the tangible and quite visible shape of a poem. But that’s only the widest concentric circle of what form is. Form is an invisible map. It leads you from poet to poet, century to century, country to country, language to language, culture to culture. At its most inspired, form traces our inspirations, reverences, and innovations; it’s a palimpsest of song and dance. But at its worst it’s a pyrrhic prize: form as value and for its own sake.”
Rowan Ricardo Phillips