I don’t know about the specific movement away from being a working-class existential communist, but I can certainly relate to the Auden quote about Yeats. Like Auden, the grief comes from caring so much for what’s at stake; I have been most disappointed in the later work of certain poets whose early work I still admire greatly. Two that come immediately to mind are Galway Kinnell and (though it pains me even to say it) Li-Young Lee. Their most recent books wax philosophical in a somewhat generic fashion, as if all the complexity and careful choice has been loosened and distilled down into the quaint homilies their audiences crave. They’re not bad books. But compared to the earlier stuff, they come up short.

I think so much of it comes from poets now assuming the roles formerly held by priests, or philosophical teachers in ancient times. It is when poets begin to accept this task of teaching other humans about their humanity — instead of focusing on what makes for solid poetry — that, as another poet-friend also named Joe once put it, they “go soft.” Fortunately, I don’t have enough admirers to metamorphose into any of them — but I am acutely aware of this phenomenon, since I find it so upsetting to see so many great poets turn into mediocre philosophers in the twilight of their careers.

*Note:* I’ve shifted this comment out to the left margin because it seems to introduce a new movement in the discussion & because we might have indented ourselves into invisibility like the mouse’s tail / tale in _Alice in Wonderland_.

It seems to me, if I’m reading you right, that you detect in Wright’s poems certain aspects of his consciousness – and which you recognize in your former self – which you dislike. I can’t revise Wright’s life for him, but I do detect, articulate, and hopefully will one day appropriate certain tactical elements of his poems as valid and useful.

I am not sure if writing is a means to greater self-realization. I know other ways that work. And I know writing is a reflection of consciousness, so examining oneself carefully can lead to better writing. I just don’t know if the act of writing in itself can be expected to transform us. I have yet to write myself better – though, undoubtedly, it has helped. So, I work on my life and work on my writing. Which, on the writing side, means gleaning whatever I can from whomever I can.