On Teachers

Walt Whitman says a teacher must be overcome
By those he teaches; Friedrich Nietzsche says that when
I reject him, then he will come to me. Yet, some
Of my own teachers are living in the dark den

Of cool postmodernism; meanwhile, see, my latest
Rejects, surpasses the postmoderns, flies on wings
Above their ironies. Rejecting which? The greatest
Postmodernists or he who taught me how verse sings?

If Nietzsche is my teacher, ought I then reject
Rejecting? Ought I then embrace my teachers, whole?
If I embrace my teachers, dead and live, elect
To integrate them all, revel in all I stole,

Become the merchant of all art in me, reveal
Myself as Hermes, Mercury -- I'll overcome
Dear Dionysus who now rules. I want to steal
His throne and give a singing voice to those long-dumb.

I'll take this turn, return to bring the future light,
Delight, insight and fight the night, bring forth a new,
Revealed, and open art, an art of truth and might
And may, a poetry that makes you know you flew.