Perning in the Gyres with W. B.
I have always loved reading. I have never cared for poetry. It is like
spinach or broccoli on my reading plate, except I actually love spinach and
broccoli. May I add I’m not keen on metaphors, either?
With poetry, it comes down to being a born skimmer. I find myself reading at angles, grasping at words like Tarzan swinging from vines, never working line-by-line and seldom methodically. Scansion might as well be a Swedish engineering firm for all I care. For reader as well as composer, poetry demands fine concentration. Ruined perhaps by decades of television, I find such concentration unpleasant.
