Bald Head Tumblers and Poetry

In the book “Tales Out of School—Selected Interviews,” Robert Creeley talks briefly about his experience in the late forties with raising and showing pigeons. As his interest in them intensified, he came into contact with a “great, old man” named Ira Grant, “who any breeder of Barred Rocks would remember.” Creeley said:

"I learned more about poetry as an actual activity from raising chickens than from any professor at the university. I learned more from this chicken farmer about how do you pay attention to things. He had no embarrassment confronting his own attention. He did not try to distract you with something else…but I was embarrassed to find out how involved I was with the poultry, and yet these men curiously allowed me all my enthusiasm. I mean take the Red Pygmy Pouters, which I bred: all the dominant terms in judging this bird for exhibition are based on recessive characteristics. I mean almost every feature of this bird, the distinguishing marks which are used in its judging, the bird stands, the length of its legs, even the color, the characteristics to which these breeders give attention are all recessive…"

So I guess I wonder-- do we approach poetry with the same human involvement and care that we would put into raising a championship pigeon? Would we work out the “recessivenesses,” and the “subordinances” of a poem? Because once that show bird shows, it is all over; they are not used as breeders. It’s the stock birds that are used to breed the desired traits, the show bird being just a moment in time. So the method, preparation, and attention to detail become quite important; a complete awareness of any potential opportunity to be fully "within" a moment.