The poetic impulse is distinct from ideas about things or feelings about things, though it may use these. It's more like a desire to separate a piece of one's experience & set it up on its own, an isolated object never to trouble you again, at least not for a bit. In the absence of this impulse nothing stirs.

Here is an unfenced existance

A writer can have only one language, if language is going to mean anything to him.

I think that at the bottom of all art lies the impulse to preserve.

Sex means nothing--just the moment of ecstasy, that flares and dies in minutes.

Life is first boredom, then fear.

I think a young poet, or an old poet, for that matter, should try to produce something that pleases himself personally, not only when he's written it but a couple of weeks later. Then he should see if it pleases anyone else, by sending it to the kind of magazine he likes reading.