I too, dislike it: there are things that are important beyond all this fiddle.
Reading it, however, with a perfect contempt for it, one discovers that
it after all, a place for the genuine.
Hands that can grasp, eyes
that can dilate, hair that can rise
if it must, these things are important not because a
high sounding interpretation can be put upon them but because they are
useful; when they become so derivative as to become unintelligible/the
same thing may be said for all of us that we
do not admire what
we cannot understand. The bat,
holding on upside down or in quest of something to
eat, elephants pushing, a wild horse taking a roll, a tireless wolf under
a tree, the immovable critic twinkling his skin like a horse that feels a
ball fan, the statistician case after
casecould be cited did
one wish it; nor is it valid
to discriminate against "business documents and
school-books"; all these phenomena are important.
One must make a distinction however:
when dragged into prominence by half poets, the result is not
nor till the autocrats among us can be "literalists of
the imagination" above
insolence and triviality and can present
for inspection, imaginary gardens with real toads in them, shall we have
it. In the meantime, if you demand on one hand, in defiance of their
opinion the raw material of poetry in
all its rawness and
that which is, on the other hand,
genuine then you are interested in poetry.