At the same time, I've never really been able to get a grasp on what my feelings are about poetry because my feelings are always changing. Perhaps because I always slip on the edges. Or because I have not yet broken bread with Poetry. "Our identities are constructed, according to the modern paradox, by others. We are taught to see ourselves first as our parents see us, next as our peers see us, next as society as a whole sees us, and even as literature conceives us. It is against these disabling conceptions from outside that our inner authenticity makes its struggle." --Helen Vendler I think that I shall invite Poetry over to my house for dinner soon, and we can have Curried Cauliflower and Tomato Soup--if it is winter--or a wonderful Bacon and Swiss Quiche with Spinich--if it is spring. If poetry doesn't get a chance to swing by for a meal with me until summer, then I'll just have a while to learn the secret family recipe for Eggplant Pasta Salad. I'm sure that Poetry could not possibly resist an invitation to one of those meals.