Nothing I write is fueled by a critical literary theory. Unless it is possible to learn such theory by osmosis, I have been train in no specific critical theory. Critics I am fond of are Northrop Frye and Allen Grossman, but, again, I don't write according to any theory of theirs.
Some of my poems--by no means all of them--are difficult, but this difficulty derives from some necessity of a situation. In other words, I hope the difficulty is better than silence. No word is placed after another in order to make a subject obscure. I usually only try to appear clever in prose.
Whenever I've allowed my writing to be unduly influence by ideas, such as in the last 25 years, such abstractions have been of the "pointers for writers" sort, and silence is usually the result. In all forms of art it seems to be the case that for every bit of advice there's advice to the contrary. For those of us who are not quite clear about ourselves, we are prone to such interior squabbles. Fortunately, there are ways to walk away even from them.