(“What interested him / most was who he was about to become.”)
INTERVIEWER
This may sound silly, but what is poetry?
GILBERT
It’s a challenge. It’s boring—sometimes. It’s maddening. It’s impossible. It’s a blessing. The craftsmanship, the difficulty of making a poem—rightly, adequately, newly. If nothing else, it’s wonderful to be that close to magic.
INTERVIEWER
What, other than yourself, is the subject of your poems?
GILBERT
Those I love. Being. Living my life without being diverted into things that people so often get diverted into. Being alive is so extraordinary I don’t know why people limit it to riches, pride, security—all of those things life is built on. People miss so much because they want money and comfort and pride, a house and a job to pay for the house. And they have to get a car. You can’t see anything from a car. It’s moving too fast. People take vacations. That’s their reward—the vacation. Why not the life? Vacations are second-rate. People deprive themselves of so much of their lives—until it’s too late. Though I understand that often you don’t have a choice.
INTERVIEWER
Were you a good teacher?
GILBERT
Excellent.
JACK GILBERT, The Art of Poetry No. 91. Interviewed by Sarah Fay. The Paris Review. Fall/Winter 2005, No. 175
