Poetry is this screaming madwoman. Everything seems poetry. Madmen gaze high. Everything seems madness. Madmen fear no moon, fear no fire. Burns of flesh are poetry. Madmen's wounds are poetry. The witch's crime was poetry. Magic knew how to find its poetry. The star wasn't poetry before the madwoman discovered it.
I think one of poetry's functions is not to give us what we want... [T]he poet isn't always of use to the tribe. The tribe thrives on the consensual. The tribe is pulling together to face the intruder who threatens it. Meanwhile, the poet is sitting by himself in the graveyard talking to a skull.