Great Regulars: Take the final stanza

of one of the longest poems, "March":

Nothing can be forced to live.
The earth is like a drug now, like a voice from far away,
a lover or master. In the end, you do what the voice
tells you.
It says forget, you forget.
It says begin, you begin again.

These demanding lines come at the end of two-and-a-half pages. The earlier [Louise] Glück would have scrubbed the poem clean, making it less than a page and certainly erasing from the final stanza all but the oracular and ruthless "Nothing can be forced to live."

from Powells: Review-A-Day: Death Immortal

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