Fables and fairy tales. If you turn that into literature or see the fairy tale beneath, no matter how rough the surface is, down underneath is the other thing. Nothing is more brutal than a fairy tale. But you've got to translate the quotidian into metaphor. Not even waste is inviolate.
Nothing is exempt from resurrection.
It is tiresome how the grass re-ripens, greening all along the punched and mucked horizon once the bison have moved on, leaning into hunger and hard luck. Sometimes an individual poem can act as the fixed lens of the static camera. It can put us back in touch with ourselves by inviting a sustained attention, transforming its subject by the quality of the attention being paid. Once we've entered its field of vision, that poem opens to us others by the same writer. We assume a kind of direct lineage, an underlying sensibility that links one with the other.