Poetry (n.) is one of humankind’s primal urges.
Poetry (n.) is an intellectual luxury good when it is cut off from its social, cultural and political underpinnings.
Poetry (n.) needs to have so many prizes and awards, otherwise its undertaking would be of uncertain value.
Poetry (n.) is a human sensory faculty as yet not fully understood.
Poetry (n.) exists at the poles of unnecessary language and essential language.
Poetry (n.) keeps language close to nature.
Poetry (n.) , if good, can easily survive a partial misquoting.
Poetry (n.) , much to a critic’s dismay, resists all manner of demystification.
Poetry (n.) presupposes its purpose.
Poetry (n.) is existence elucidated by means of the imagination.
Poetry (n.) is held back by the tether of the line.
Poetry (n.) is impractical language.
Poetry (n.) is in a running argument with the lingua franca.
Poetry (n.) is literature’s vice. When critics admonish the current state of poetry for its lack of social acceptability, for its recalcitrance, we know the art is going wrong in a good way.
Poetry (n.) is locution of what is normally elided.
Poetry (n.) is often recognized by its language speed.
Poetry (n.) is software written in a programming language for the human soul.
Poetry (n.) is the apotheosis of speech.