Perhaps we can think about how many great poems (newly published) we each find in a given year. This will likely be different for each of us, but perhaps this is an easier way to deal with the question.

I don’t imagine there are too many. I’m not struck by a great poem in every book I read. Maybe a few a year? I’m debating whether that’s even right.

Again, look back through the old journals. Very instructive.

I’d be surprised if, by the definition above, the world sees any more than 1 great poem a year. Happily surprised, sure, but surprised.

>>These things have a way of working themselves out. Go back over the list of GGs in this country. Look at an old issue of Malahat, or Prism from 1969, for example. This will give you a sense of what is great and not great.

What’s great is what remains, in short, what calls us back to it over and over again. The dog-eared look of the book tells the story.

I’m not asking anyone to consider what makes up greatness, or how to achieve it (though, if you figure that out, I’m all ears). I hear “this poem/book/poet is really great” a lot in both casual conversation and critical review. And I wonder if we take it seriously enough, as an adjective.

Well, I wouldn’t go that far. I’ve sat through hours of squirming in all manner of ways. No, I wouldn’t say no to an engineer entering into poetry, and you’re right, I have a thing for talking to people who aren’t into poetry…but as my recent post on Harriet attests, it’s an ongoing challenge to simply define, let alone judge the bestness of poetry. Not quite how I want to spend my time thinking, that’s all. My choice.