If You Write Well, You Don't Have

There Are So Many Selves In Everybody, And Just To Explore And Exploit One Is Wrong, Dead Wrong, For The Creative Person.

I Do Think The Author Ought To Be Able To Give A Good Reason For The Way Things Are In His Poem. Not A Bad Question To Ask Oneself.

To Live A Very Long Time... Is Supposed To Be The Desired Object Of All Human Life. But It Is Not. The Main Thing Is To Ride The Flood Tide... How Glorious It Is To Create! For Those Few Moments Of A Lifetime When The Stream Is Running Full And Deep: Those Are The Justification For Everything.

What A View, I Said Again. The River Was Blank And Mindless With Beauty. It Was The Most Glorious Thing I Have Ever Seen. But It Was Not Seeing, Really. For Once It Was Not Just Seeing. It Was Beholding. I Beheld The River In Its Icy Pit Of Brightness, In Its Far-below Sound And Indifference, In Its Large Coil And Tiny Points And Flashes Of The Moon, In Its Long Sinuous Form, In Its Uncomprehending Consequence.

I Want You To Hear A New Version Of Dueling Banjos. Anyone Else Is Welcome.