Form Is Never More Than An Extension

Comes The Time When It's Later And Onto Your Table The Headwaiter Puts The Bill

The Lady Has Always Moved To The Next Town And You Stumble On After Her.

O Love, Where Are You Leading Me Now?

I Heard Words And Words Full Of Holes Aching.

Still, No One Finally Knows What A Poet Is Supposed Either To Be Or To Do. Especially In This Country, One Takes On The Job—because All That One Does In America Is Considered A "job"—with No Clear Sense As To What Is Required Or Where One Will Ultimately Be Led. In That Respect, It Is As Particular An Instance Of A "calling" As One Might Point To. For Years I've Kept In Mind, "many Are Called But Few Are Chosen." Even So "called," There Were No Assurances That One Would Be Answered.