I have to quote this Henry Gould post (7/30) entirely:

"I don't found literary movements, I don't rail against the publishing biz, I don't mock magazine editors, I don't work in the creative writing industry, I don't bond with fellow careerists, I don't even bond with poets I admire.

I don't look for admiration or prestige as a poet. (To hell with all that : go find another guru!) The process of making poems is too mysterious and contingent for me to even think of myself as a "poet", as if a poet were some sort of steady-state identity.

What I hope is that an occasional reader love my poems as I do. I love them in part for being (or seeming) somewhat autonomous, standing somewhat independent of me : little creations. I love them for being musical in feeling and thought."

a lot of this resonates with me, even the doth protest too much note that I (at least) hear. I mean, I take Henry at his word, but can guess that there still exists a side that does look for admiration, etc. it's the human inconsistency that we all imbibe. I admire Henry for being so stalwartly placed in opposition to those dark careerist motivations. I'll be 52 on sunday (I look 49), and the lack of pursuit I've made towards publication and readings would shock most of the participants at Massacre de Boston. it's not like pursuing publication and readings is wrong, so long as one's integrity remains intact. I am pleased that I have not let such worm their way into my motivation too much. I look forward to reading with Henry.