As reviewers, we naturally present our biases as strengths. If we’re paying attention we’ll also recognize anything overdone or done in ignorance of the larger historical and aesthetic frame in which both poetry and criticism exist is likely to do disservice to both. Even then we're more likely to miss more than we catch, appreciate less those poems worthy of praise, while elevating others beyond their genuine deserts.
My own biases in poetry lean towards compression, dense allusive imagery, dissociative leaps in meaning, lines rich in personality and driven by strong purpose or intentionality. Naturally, these represent a very small part of the broad range of tastes and expectations through which any book might be filtered.
Uppermost must be our sympathies for the poet whose satisfactions when we get it right must almost inevitably be tempered by an even greater patience when we get it wrong.
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