Poetic voice does not exist

Looking for "the voice" as if it were an object delays the work. It is not behind a door. It is not obtained by copying a style, or by borrowing a sadness.

The class goes somewhere else: the present, the scene of now, observation, letting go of the resistance to sound a certain way. The voice, if it appears, appears in the flow. Not before.

That does not deny the craft. It denies the waiting. You write with what there is today — a table, a street, a body — and then you read what remained. That reading is more faithful than any declaration of identity.

Source: the class "Poetic voice does not exist."