Romantic Poetry in a World of Scientific Workshops

[billy]

lay back on the couch, now tell us, why do you keep bringing up lonely

I never said I was lonely. But was alone in wanting a poetry like the Bible, Dante and Milton that becomes real, the beliefs and experiences of generations of people. I want a poetry so real that dogs bark at it in the night when all the people are asleep. Poetry that evolves new physical areas of the brain. Not just words and meanings in musical and aesthetic forms, but new and old worlds carved out of the solid bones of living gods and disfigured chimeras. Worlds where science and politics drown under ancient mud when giants cast them to the sides with the wave of a flood. Where aliens who travel here in ships that emerge through the space between the seconds on a stopwatch find William Blake's poetry and the Book of Job more essential than Earth and stars and human blood.