All I've done is talk about myself. What sordid and self-obsessed little creatures poets are. That is, except for this man: Edwin Morgan, who is the bestest old man in the world.
Morgan is a hugely witty, humane, experimental and brilliant (I should go on) poet who never fails to make me bleed a little inside. I'm currently researching his Science Fiction Poetry with Edinburgh University, and I suggest you go and read it before you die.