Things that inspired me were experiences that created an “opening of the field” to use a phrase from Robert Duncan who was one poet who inspired me, both by his poetry and his example. I learned to write by reading poetry and then seeking by out these poets whose work inspired me. Certain teachers have appeared along the way, though they weren’t always the regular kind of teacher. They appeared in many guises, a primary school teacher, an old fisherman, a fishing writer, and a master pastry chef, a priest and a minister, painters and photographers, professors. The others were my eternals: William Blake, Shelley, Emily Dickinson, Mallarme, Rimbaud, Hart Crane, Wallace Stevens, Elizabeth Bishop and several others whose books travel with me everywhere I go.

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From the beginning Francis Webb has sought that ‘so tender voyaging line of truth’, single-mindedly, and with a somewhat disconcerting unawareness of the fashionable poetry of his time. He has been concerned with the same tragic problems as Rilke, Eliot, Pasternak and, to mention a contemporary who presents a close parallel, Robert Lowell. I cannot, after long mediation on his verse, place his achievement on a level lower than that suggested by these names.

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This special issue of Rochford Street Review is dedicated to Robert Adamson. It includes work by and about Bob that has appeared in The Review over the years but it is centred around a number of he essays he delivered while he was the The first Chair in Australian Poetry at the University of Technology Sydney (UTS), a position that was funded by the Copyright Agency Limited (CAL).

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