Truth be told, I went on a bit of a rant in my caption today. I think I might actually just paste it here – it sums up how I’m feeling about these lines pretty well.
“A lot of our work has us making these grand declarative statements about the different facets of life, emotion, and experience we carry as poets. But it would be a huge mistake to assume that we’ve got it figured out because we felt well enough about a line to put it on a page. There’s a lot of insecurity that comes with taking particular notions and molding your work around them because they exist as a sort of artifact of that particular moment of time. That distinct instance of yourself. And poets (the good ones, I like to think, anyway) exist as people as much as they exist as artists. Our perceptions shift and reform and blur and come back into focus millions of times over again. And those of us who know that aren’t urging you to interact with our work with any specific measure of belief – we’d just like you to borrow our eyes for a moment or two, and decide what to feel for yourself once you’ve come away.”