Poets of unconventional appearance and behavior are in some periods greatly exposed to danger. An unconventional sexual proclivity, for example, can induce hatred to the point of murder. To thrive in such a world, the poet must disguise himself so as to live efficiently enough with others to risk revealing himself. Insects’ bodies imitate twigs and leaves so as to be present but invisible to their predators. When they are most visible, flashing bright oranges and reds, their gambit is to advertise openly that they are poisonous if eaten. Poets are sometimes glaringly unconventional and so are openly ostracized, but even the hostile enforcers of social codes may want, half-willingly, to be free, as free as the artist they profess to despise. Poets deceive to protect themselves; they may need to transform their strategies before they take the sometimes heavy chance of bringing forward a work of true originality. History is full of this, of this most of all.