11 March 2004. While at school the other day, subbing, I scribbled a few (not particularly original) notes toward another of my classifications of poetry. What follows is a somewhat wobbly attempt to make a brief essay of those notes. In it, I divide poems into three primary kinds, based on what area of their infocipients' psychologies they are chiefly aimed at.

The first, and always the most popular, is Soulfare, or what the philistine reacts to by exclaiming, "Gee whiz, how eloquently he expresses just what I feel! I could never do that!"

The second is Craftfare, or what the philistine reacts to by exclaiming, "Gee whiz, how skillfully he carries out the difficult steps required to make this work! I could never do that!"

The third is Aesventurefare (or "aesthetic-adventure fare"), or what the philistine reacts to by exclaiming, "Aaarrrgh, how vilely he wrenches me away from what I know! I'd never do that to anyone, though I easily could if I wanted to."

Note: I'm not saying that because philistines admire something, it is necessarily bad, or that because they are repelled by something, it is necessarily good. A non-philistine will admire a superior specimen of soulfare for depths and subtleties its philistine admirers are incapable of perceiving. A non-philistine will admire a superior specimen of craftfare for intricacies and subtleties its philistine admirers are incapable of appreciating. A non- philistine will look down on an inferior specimen of aesventurefare for much better reasons than the philistine's belief that anything having characteristics not staples of mainstream art for at least twenty years is abhorrent.

Needless to say, all three kinds of poetry have their virtues. The appeal of soulcraft lies in its ability, when effective, to reassure its infocipients that they are not alone in their outlook on life. The appeal of craftfare lies in its ability, when effective, to cause its infocipients vicariously to experience Grand Dexterity, as with watching the performance of a superior juggler, or a world-class athlete. The appeal of aesventurefare lies in its ability, when effective, to allow its (most perceptive and knowledgeable) infocipients to perceive existence in a significantly new way.

Now, then, just as saying there are just three primary colors is not the same as saying there are only three colors, my saying there are three primary kinds of poetry does not mean I think there are only three kinds of poetry. Obviously, I think the three primary kinds mix together with one another the same way, and as much, as the three primary colors. I haven't made a careful survey of the field, but it seems to me that both what I call Iowa Workshop Poetry, or sensitive contemporary free verse, and what I call Contragenteel Poetry, or coarsely direct contemporary free verse, are more soulfare than anything else; neoformalist poetry is more craftfare than anything else; and the rising contender for acadominance, language poetry, is more aesventurefare than anything else. Pluraesthetic Poetry, or poetry that makes significant aesthetic use of two or more expressive modalities, is also a form of aesventurefare although it has been with us for close to a century now.

Iowa Workshop Poetry, Contragenteel Poetry, Neoformalist Poetry and one strand of Language Poetry, which I call sprungrammar poetry, are the four main visible kinds of poetry being composed today. Those making the first still get most of the prizes and fill the most pages of commercial anthologies, but Neoformalists seem to be making a minor comeback, and certain language poets seem to be getting the most respect as poets from the intellectuals. The contragenteel poets are probably the most numerous but get no respeck. The pluraesthetic poets are invisible to both the literary establishment and the "people."

While a fair number of skilled knownstream poets write both Iowa Workshop and neoformalist poetry, and perhaps even contragenteel poetry, most language poets and contragenteel poets stick to their fortes only. The pluraesthetic poets seem to have the greatest range, many of them writing various kinds of free verse and language poetry as well as composing their more marginal works. It seems to me obvious that the best poetry combines all three of the kinds of poetry I've been discussing. Since in my own poetry I certainly go for the same kinds of epiphanies that soulcraft-specialists go for, I would never call for the abolition of soulcraft, as my less attentive critics often suggest I would like to. But, unlike most poetry-lovers, I would prefer that it take up substantially less room in a poem than the poem's aesventurecraft portion. I tend to think its craftfare portion should take up the least room in a poem.