Conventional wisdom has it that most of the poetry written in an

era is fated to be minor. In the cosmic view of things, this prop-

osition seems self-evident. Judged by the standards of Shakespeare

and Milton, how many contemporaries will strike future genera-

tions as major? Critics, whose job it is to make discriminations,

are not the only ones who put poets in their place. The poets

themselves do it unconsciously. It may help motivate us--some of

us anyway--to adopt Hemingway s metaphor and imagine that we

are getting into the ring with Rilke when we write our next poem.

Reading, however, as lovers of poetry rather than as pugnacious

aspirants to personal greatness, we are bound to be less severe in

our judgment, more generous with our hearts. Reading for the

pure pleasure of it, we find abundance.

Tracking the poetry published in the United States in any one

year is an instructive experience. The first time you do it, you

might begin with a cool skepticism. You can t imagine coming

across seventy-five poems worthy of acclaim. What you realize

soon enough is that it s a difficult task just to keep up with what s

out there--there is so much of it, and so much of it is Rood. One