Something I read somewhere : "Faced with an insoluble problem, make it bigger (enlarge the context)."

Let's forget about the roaring of contemporaries & cozening polemics. It's a musty closet. Let's do two things : read "the classics" and study where we are in the world (& beyond).

I imagine a limpid poetry of experience, which moves by gradual slight stages from description to synthesis and music, and back again. & by the same gradual slight stages from voice to persona and back again. a reserved poetry, which seeks fitness and the right moment & the right word rather than quantity and ambition.