Whenever I need a poetry boost, I take up Frank Stanford. His language forces the brain into interesting tilts. He teaches the eyes to swim faster.

For example, from Their Names Are Spoken:

We dream on
Now night a cool moss
On the undersides of the cold ground
Keeps growing on the stones

This is amazing. To position night like this is to take a common element and make it live again. Stanford makes you want to run and write poetry. One measure: if it makes you want to write, it’s a keeper. The writer’s writer makes you want to write.