There are just so many ways to dislike Waltz’s essay. Start with the facile, faux Hunter S. Thompson prose style; the lack of insights (spoken word has been around for, oh, ten years or so. Thanks for noticing, William!); the defense of Billy Collins (in the sixties the popular poet was Rod McKuen. Anyone happy about that?); or the commercial plugs for his buddy Gabriel Gudding (go talk to your own buttocks, fellas). What’s most appalling to me is that like most “cultural commentators” discussing poetry, Waltz assumes it’s an academic game. The writers I’ve come into contact with in the nearly thirty years I’ve been writing write poetry for love, not grades. And among those people, poetry has never been in danger of dying as an art.
R.T. Castleberry
Houston, TX
Oddly, a large number of letter writers who disliked Waltz’s essay accused him of shilling for “his buddy” Gabriel Gudding. The two are not aquainted socially or professionally, just one poet admiring another—a shocking enough state of affairs, we guess.—Editors
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