A Spring Dispatch from the Review's Poetry Editor - The Paris Review
Briefly

Sometimes, on the campus of the university where I work, a visiting writer will explain to a captive audience how great poems-more often than not his own-get written.These explanations often sound a bit mystical, occasionally even mystifying.So I was amused to read the opening lines of Dobby Gibson's tongue-in-cheek " Small Craft Talk," a poem our readers discovered in a box of paper slush, and which you'll find in our Spring issue:
In some languages the word for dream is the same as for music
is the kind of thing poets like to say
Before you know it, Gibson's takedown of writing-program clichés shades into a wonder at how poems can make us feel ourselves, as Wallace Stevens once put it, "more truly and more strange":
as if you're hearing the song
of your own mind sung into being so that you become yourself
by becoming more like another self
When I read a poem like Gibson's, I usually think, Wow, what a great poem.
Read at The Paris Review
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