Poetry’s not a box for storing unexamined experience, but a space instead—a field, really—within which to examine experience and to find that the more we examine it the more we’re surprised or disturbed by what we see, things that don’t go away. I think that’s the resonant part. But I understand that it’s harder to write that kind of poem. Harder, too, to read it. —Carl Phillips, from the Paris Review, The Art of Poetry #103