B: Is this true or do you have some other concern, Mr. Cohen, that you'd like to get off your chest right now? C: I haven't a single concern. B: Come on now, what do you care about, really? Don't you care about anything? How can you be a good poet and not care about something? C: No, no. I do the poetry; you do the commentary. B: No, but... I'm... Let's get this straight: are you saying that there's nothing that worries you, there's nothing that bothers you? How can you write poetry if you're not bothered by something? C: Well, I'm... I'm... I'm bothered when I get up in the morning... My real concern is to discover whether or not I'm in a state of grace. And if I make that investigation and if I discover that I'm not in a state of grace, I try to go to bed. B: What do you mean by a state of grace? That's... I've never understood. C: A state of grace is that kind of balance with which you ride the chaos that you find around you. It's not a matter of resolving the chaos, because there's something arrogant and warlike about putting the world in order, but having that kind of... Like an escaped ski going over a hill, just going through the contours of— B: Oh, you have lost me!