Jared Smith		“ The Science of Expanded Understanding “   The whole Front Range disappears from distance; sometimes because of the curvature of the earth, sometimes because of the dirty ways of industry, but the nature of life and rock is thus invisibility. And when the Continental Divide is neither there nor the cold, cold rivers that give us life among deep pools, then too there are no ranchers nor are computers nor tabulators nor mappers able to re- present the folds of consciousness separating us. Nor are there farmers, nor hidden houses where our unfound lovers can write messages of love, nor is there a vocabulary that reaches inside us, because each day it’s in the nature of the beast to need to reach out and traverse the distances, to walk or drive or dream our way across our essence without which any of this is meaningless and poetry gives away to a dry science that has no meaning and our bones are so caught up into the light of expanding cosmos and so a part of time there is no meaning, no poetry, no religion, no time, and             no expanding cosmos		“Why Real Men Don’t Read Poetry Anymore “ A lot of years go into reading the lines between the lines M.L. Rosenthal said every year as he taught the best of us how Randall Jarrell wrote in the belly of war and James Dickey in the Coca Cola Corp and William Carlos Williams doctoring and Wallace Stevens inking out insurance, and he talked about scanning and all that but also about how they caught the ear even with their form and how you can’t do that unless you’re out there talking to real men about the things that can keep a man alive when he gets so drawn out hungry he can’t hold himself up anymore or when he wants a hot young woman to put her lips to him for no other reason than he looks like what she wants or he smells like the sound of money, in any generation, in any literary period, or she thinks he can outshoot any other man because he’s clearly killing men every day and the gold pinstripe on his suit says that… that’s what real men talk about, and hear from other men in every other walk of life you can think of it any way you want, but when a man spends his best years talking to children, even the best children every year, he gets interested in them…not just the tight skirts and bored eyes but the same thing he hears coming back at him every day of his life in that classroom where people may be very smart but aren’t around the block enough times to offer much new to the poet…so he keeps on spewing out the old iambs and troches and frailties and pain and forgets there is a message comes before the form and the message is spoken in language he doesn’t hear.