An Excerpt on Writing WarriorPoetry from Subhorup
I do not know anything that can help another poet do what he or she must do. What I feel at the pit of my stomach has no measure and cannot be contained in seventeen syllables. I can only pass on the desperation with which those who have gone this way before you and me have lived each day, each hour of their lives. I can only invite you to write and speak until whatever it is gets said, and then repeat until obsession. Say it better until it feels like a memory to the reader, something they’ve always felt or known but had lost access to until then.
You will be scoffed at for saying the same thing over and over, you will be ridiculed and branded, and people will try to avoid you. Yet, if you keep at it, they will know in their hearts even as they close the page they were reading, that what you said was what they needed to hear. In some senses, that is an indication that both the poet and the reader are on the right road.