“Taggard, like Winters, isn't looking for poetry anymore. Like Munson, they are both in pursuit of some cure-all. Poetry as poetry (and I don't mean merely decorative verse) isn't worth a second reading any more. Therefore— away with Kubla Kahn, out with Marlowe, and to hell with Keats. It's a pity, I think. So many true things have a way  of coming out all the better without the strain to sum up the universe in one impressive little pellet. I admit that I don't answer the requirements. My vision of poetry is too personal to ‘answer the call.’ " The Letters of Hart Crane, ed. Brom Weber (Berkeley and Los Angeles, 1965), number 343.