I don’t think that anyone who’s a prac­ti­cing poet, even a prac­ti­cing bad poet, who’s done it for a long enough time, would disa­gree with the fact that there is some­thing from the Outside. I mean, you get this in Longinus for christ’s sake, all of these pret­ty square people going all the way back. Saint Thomas Aquinas says it, and you can’t have anyone who’s far­ther away from poe­try than him. But I do think that an awful lot of poets feel at the back of their minds that they would real­ly rather express them­selves. “This poem is me. I am this poem,” you know, and so forth.