Is it inherently a part of a poet's
constitution to wallow in misery and deliberately choose a more difficult path? I think it is. We are a collectively miserable bunch that like to have tumultuous relationships and then string a bunch of little shapes together to record the depths of our souls.....yes...I think so. We (or maybe this is just me) can't just give in for once and be happy and make the right/easy choice which we would all profit by. I guess not, maybe this is the only way for art to continue...now I feel noble in my wallowing...heh heh.