Bly falls into didacticism—a trait he always displays with audiences—reading & rereading the most inconsequential images, lines, stanzas, & poems as if of cosmic import. It’s also the dead giveaway of a man unsure of himself, his talent, & in need of constant reinforcement. But then he’s always played the “insecure liberal”, wasting time & energy in politics that should go to art, who needs to show his/her innate goodness, go to a [3rd World country/rehab center/orphanage/social activist group] to see how the other ½ lives, translate 5th rate poetasters into English, & leach bad poems from the transformative period so crucial to their growth as a poet/person. It’s all part of the co-opting of language & freedoms by so many groups—PC Elitists among them.
Oh yeah – almost forgot:
godless postmodern sensibilities
Poets: a pathetic lot—
Who sing, off-key, of their own refusing.
On a quest for what is not,
Entranced with their own maudlin musing
In that zone where life gets buffered
As the pages load; confusing
Pain with what their souls have suffered:
Lyric bombs for your defusing.