Why would anyone want to be a poet?

David Orr, in his review of Maxine Hong Kingston's I Love a Broad Margin to My Life, asks readers: Why would anyone want to be a poet?

If that question seems too broad (or too harsh), let’s try a more modest one: Why would someone who’s already mastered an art form that is vastly more influential and lucrative than poetry — fiction or songwriting, for example — want to be a poet? The most famous poets aren’t famous, the richest poets aren’t rich, and not even the best-loved poets will ever enjoy the devotion inspired by Barbara Kingsolver, let alone Lady Gaga. So when a superstar from another arena turns his or her attention to poetry, the result can be like watching the Super Bowl M.V.P. forgo an entire season to devote himself to foosball. “Why,” one wonders, “is this person bothering?”

Because poetry is awesome? Yes. Let's go with that. And then, let's alter (ever so slightly) Orr's questions from "why" to a perhaps more pertinent question wrt to Kingston—Can anyone be a poet—and see if we get some insight:

I think anyone can write poetry if they try. But you have to have a gift/talent to write good poetry .But some poems come from a persons experiances and they write what they feel and with a passion.

Thank you, kevinmcc. I think David Orr would concur:

The default “poetic” mode here is basically bad Whitman.

:( But, maybe there's some "with a passion," Mr. Orr?

. . . plenty of very good poets have struggled with exactly the difficulties Kingston confronts here, and many have handled those difficulties with less grace.

So not many people can do a thing that no one cares about. Thanks for the help, NYT!