poems as hand- and foot-holds on a glass mountain

W S Merwin

A great poet has died, one whose work I’ve been reading for many years.

“The kind of of writing that matters most to me is something you don’t learn about,” Merwin tells Edward Hirsch in his interview. “It’s constantly coming out of what I don’t know rather than what I do know. I find it as I go. In a sense, much that is learned is bound to be bad habits. You’re always beginning again.”

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