Thirteen Thoughts on Poetry in the Digital Age

FOREWORD. As I'm writing this, I'm sitting on a plane, where screens in the backs of seats compete with screens in hands. A plane was once a quiet place for reading or dozing, a liminal space where conversations among strangers were somehow permitted, and--because of the improbability of seatmates meeting again--might grow probing and intimate. A plane, then, was sometimes a place of reflection, of connection. And perhaps sometimes it still is. But all I see today are screens, screens, screens. ...