I posted this over at Gary Barwin's blog, but I'll repost it here, with the same sheepishness about how the anecdote is structured as if I'm some kind of sage dispensing wisdom (gag):
Maryrose Larkin told me the other day that she had at long last finished her latest collection of poems, but she still needed to go over them to make sure they work. "Go over them and make sure they play," I told her. "They're your poems, not your slaves."
Labels: Gary Barwin, Maryrose Larkin
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