Six poets, former students of Richard Howard, read their poetry in his presence yesterday evening at the Casa Italiana in Morningside Heights.

His love and compassion was evident, and was reciprocated, except for when he commented that one of them, Lucie Brock-Broido, was famous for telling her students to "cut that." He could have been referring to the poem she had just read, and it certainly cut her. She drew the corners of her ample mouth down, and down they remained.

A cage goes in search of a bird.

The advice that hurts the most is the stuff you know is true -- Joseph Fasano, who read an intense and gripping poem.

Lucie's humiliation lasted the entire evening.

Richard: "I'm not aware of the pain I've inflicted, but I'm perfectly content to have done so."

"The most appealing part of the pedagogical career is that I had no idea this was possible."

Listening to one poem, it occurred to me that I have brothers and sisters, but I think of myself as an only child. I never realized that I love and hate them as siblings do.

Ovid is popular among the students of Richard Howard.

"Dear, these are not poems. Would you like them to be?"

It is the movement that creates the form.

The day's stalactite a tempest in my chamberpot.

Letter from Proust to his lover Daniel Halevi. My Hebrew name is Michael ben Yehiel Halevi.

Iguana see, iguana do.

The French say "perdre le nord" instead of disoriented. Were they confused by invading Vikings? No, the clouds occluded the north star.

What's frightening isn't the end of the American century, Marc Fumaroli and I agreed, but the incertitude of what comes next. A less rationalistic but benevolent totalitarianism would be tolerable, but not if the Chinese or Indians combine their tolerance for authoritarian leadership with American rationalization for irresponsible governance.