I wrote poems for years that were not poems. The marvelous insight presented was presented in such a way the reader said, "got it." Something harrowing was missing. Subtlety was missing. There was too much of me. The "marvelous" was all in my head. Nothing deceives you like your own poetry. Idiot! Knocking on your own door. After writing poems for years I'm dumber than I was before. But at least I'm better than poets who use words in their poems like "linoleum" and "Cleveland." Poems of life and familiarity, too self-consciously selling a memory. Those aren't poems, either. We're trapped. Vanity! Obscurity! No one knows what to do. The only thing a poet has--- he thought he was better than you.
