ABSTRACT
Instantly I felt an affinity to a poet who, in a poem I happened across in a magazine, said he lived in a neighborhood where shit trucks come to haul away shit. I don't know much about poetry, nor do I personally know a single poet. I had always vaguely thought of poets as beings so pure and immaculate that they'd never tread on filthy ground; as beings who lived aloft in airy realms; in short, as a special breed of noble superhumans, a species entirely different from common creatures like us.
