I think there are. I think there are many
unspoken poems in everyone. The best layer of
existence consists of unspoken poems.
[Hilgers:] In today’s literary world, we often
hear prose spoken of as ‘‘poetic prose.’’ We also
have prose poems, and we have poetry. Do you
think the former distinctions between the prose
writer and the poet are breaking down?
Yes, I think so. The conventional novel
proves to be somewhat unsatisfactory to most
modern novelists. They want to achieve in their
novels moments of poetry—intense, direct
expressions of feelings—rather than to accom-
plish everything through naturalistic narrative.
Also, poets often write at a secondary level of
intensity, and produce a kind of secondary
poem, almost the notes for a poem. These are
called ‘‘prose poems’’—unfortunately so, because
the name implies that these notes are the com-
pleted thing in itself. To my mind, prose poems
are unfulfilled poems, prose-y poems, and they
should be so called.
Our conversation so far has been skirting
around the big question, the question of just what
a poet is. Maybe we can have a go at it in just one
other way. Someone like the Russian poet Yev-
tushenko, for example, may be criticized for being
an apologist for political purposes. Does this make
him any less a poet?
I’m not in a position to judge the question of
a Russian poet’s relationship to his society. It’s
such a difficult relationship. Since I don’t expe-
rience the same burden, I can’t judge how well a
Russian poet copes with it. I don’t feel that
Yevtushenko’s work is very interesting, at least
as it comes through in translation.
Let’s say we had a poet laureate in this coun-
try who wrote paeans to Ronald Reagan periodi-
cally. Would that be a compromise of the poet’s
integrity?
I don’t know. It depends how the poet feels
about Ronald Reagan. He may be currying
favor, or he may actually love Ronald Reagan.
It makes all the difference. Poetry should enter
the political realm; poems should be able to
contain one’s political opinions. But poetry
which doesn’t do that may be fine poetry. And
poetry which exclusively does that may be fine
poetry too.
Is the poet’s voice an individual voice?
Yes, in our time and in the modern world, it
is necessarily an individual voice. What goes on
in a poem is, generally speaking, a very personal
struggle between what a poet wants to be and
what he’s able to be.
[Molloy:] You said earlier that certain things
engage a poet and bring about, perhaps, a ‘‘surge’’
of feeling. What would you say are the things that
have particularly engaged you and brought about
the surge for you?
It’s hard to say. When I glance back at the
poems I’ve written, they seem to have sprung
from many different sources. I can’t, for instance,
say that animals are the principle source.
Although animals are very important in your
poetry, surely.
Animals occur often in my poems, but put-
ting myself in a farmyard will not start me writ-
ing poems. If one knew the answer to your
question, there would be no such thing as a dry
spell. One would just go down to the local pig-
farm, or whatever.
[Molloy:] Or over to the zoo. I remember
reading that when Rama Krishna would go to the
Calcutta Zoo, he would be sent off into a trance if
he would hear the lion roar. It seemed to be for him
some great manifestation of the Divine.
[Hilgers:] Besides animals, are there other
objects that have particularly attracted you?
On the whole, creatures (earthly creatures)
and children (my own children) have been great
sources of poetry for me. But also any aspect of
life which seems to have a tradition to it—
whether a continuing tradition, as one finds in
Vermont farms, for example, or broken tradi-
tions, as one finds in the slums of New York. The
sense of tradition, however distorted, seems to
awaken something.
[Molloy:] Does that come from your back-
ground in religious structures which place great
importance on tradition?WHAT GOES ON IN A POEM IS, GENERALLYSPEAKING, A VERY PERSONAL STRUGGLE
BETWEEN WHAT A POET WANTS TO BE AND
WHAT HE’S ABLE TO BE.’’
Blackberry Eating