Poetry readings are a little tough on poets and audience alike. The poet, uncertain of his audience, must perhaps pass up good poems in favor of inferior but more easily assimilated material. He is likely to find that a catchy closing couplet will draw more audience reaction than a more profound piece.

And the audience, unless it comes prepared with texts, is likely to miss much; the listener is denied the luxury of pasuing at an evocative metaphor, and if he stops to puzzle over a line, he is likely to be left behind. Nevertheless, readings remain a rather popular local form of entertainment, and two Pulitzer Prize winners, Stanley Kunitz and Richard Wilbur, attracted a good hot-night crowd to New-Lowell Lec last week.

It's hard to say what makes an audience respond to a reading. Some of the most success works were the rather dramatic ones--often a brief introduction explaining the situation helped. Kunitz, especially, came off best in poems like "The Dragonfly," "The War Against the Trees," or "The Thief," in which an easily-explained situation gave listeners something to hold on to.

And his style may also be responsible for some of the difficulty he presents to listeners. It is taut and lean; a poem like "By Lamplight" moves along so fast that even knowing what the situation is hardly helps one keep up with it. Mr. Kunitz reads well, emphasizing the brittle sonic effects and providing real dramatic power where it is called for.

Most of Mr. Wilbur's poems were easier for the listener, for they are less compact, more filled out with sometimes excess adjectives. He began with several works probably familiar to many members of the audience, including the excellent "Love Calls Us to the Things of This World," and the sharp and effective "Voice From Under the Table." Later in the program he moved to most recent works, with a neat contrast between two love poems, "Someone Talking to Himself" --very world-renouncing and romantic--and "Loves of the Puppets," in the same vein as "Voice from Under the Table." His song from the musical "Candide," Dr. Pangloss' song on "the sunny side of venereal disease," was the most entertaining moment of the evening, though most of his work was touched with humor. All his reading was much more restrained than Kunitz', suited to the more relaxed manner of his poems.

As successful as most of the program was, it could only serve as a bare introduction to two important modern poets. But hopefully, it might have sent at least a few to Lamont for a further look at what they have to offer.