To worry is to be. To be is to worry.
I’ve for many years known That I am not a poet. To the occasional groan I’ll try, but then blow it. When I attempt it, I start, “There once was a lady from Nantucket.” But the try lacks any heart And in a flash (or even less) I chuck it. That’s not the sort of [...]
I have a confession to make. Not only have I never written poetry, but I’ve also never enjoyed reading it either, except, of course, for limericks beginning, “There once was a lady from Nantucket.” I’m stating this neither as a boast nor as a poetry put-down. Quite the contrary, I’m a bit embarrassed about my [...]