Year Zero and a jaded old hack I was getting some poetry ready and pinpointing places to send it, when I suddenly felt completely sickened and fed up. I slouched off for a long walk in an autumnal park. What Sogyal Rinpoche calls the Monkey Mind was reminding me that I had my first poems published when I was 22 (which I did) why are you still having to schlep around like a beginner when you've spent over half your life being a published poet? Then I remembered all the rejections I'd ever had (ignoring all the acceptances). I also recalled my life when I had made poetry my priority in my 20s and early 30s. Poverty, Bleak House-like publishers delays culminating in sickening disappointments, such as just missing out at Faber & Faber, nicely rounded off by the death of my best writer friend. However a walk in the park and a timely call from Bob, made me feel much better. I suggested to the old Mad dog that he set up a Zen guidance hotline. He helped me to realise that no wonde...