How does a reader of poetry develop a taste?
In college, the exposure to new poets was immaculate. Unreal.
I used to descend into the basement of my college’s library and pick off books of poetry at random. Or if I was in class and a professor mentioned a writer, the library helped fill in the gaps.
Opening to a new page of an old book and thinking to myself, suddenly, I’ve just understood something for the first time. And there is the feeling, leaving the library, that the people around me are a massive stirring of discovery and unknowing, and that I had a private something to share.
Literacy is always shared, and I’ve got a little somethin’-somethin’ to share. The other night, a good thing happened.