Poetry is often generations in advance of the thought of its time.
But childhood prolonged, cannot remain a fairyland. It becomes a hell.
Stupidity always accompanies evil. Or evil, stupidity.
The fact, and the intuition or logic about the fact, are severe coordinates in fiction. In the short story they must cross with hair-line precision.
No more pronouncements on lousy verse. No more hidden competition. No more struggling not to be a square.
Perhaps this very instant is your time.