He hates moderation. We are so conditioned to think of meat as something sold in supermarkets or fed to animals that we have almost lost the positive overtones these McClure seeks to restore. This statement is central to McClure's work. Until we are spontaneous, and reject conventionalities, we shall miss a unique experience. Poetry is Action.
Poetry is Explosion.
Shelley's romantic exclamations and his willingness to risk overstatement for a fervid personal truth. McClure's own note below suggests his fascination with the poetic act as engendering protein organisms. I would like to have it looked at as the mindless coiling of a protein that has not fully achieved life -but one that is, or might be, a step towards livingbeing. My chest is weeping-and I do not cry longer. The lobes of my lungs draw upon one another.