Trust Me. I know What I Am Doing
My friend, Margaret Ezzet, in her own thoughtful way, Gave me two lovely presents this past Christmas Day. The first was the pencils—I’ve shown you a picture— That give me permission your grammar to censure. (I stand by my mix of the past and the present. It works in this case, even if it seems like it doesn’t.) That gift also stumped me a bit, by the way, with a problem that’s stumped us grammarians to this day: that’s how to decide whether “pencils” is single, when they come in one box in which they all mingle, (not to mention us poets who now and then struggle to make their poems rhyme without making up new words) The second gift she gave me is a book obviously intentioned (by an author with no struggle like the one I just mentioned) To give us a chuckle every day of the year— (not just one chuckle, I need to make clear, But 366 chuckles—one poem for EACH DAY of the year!) Whew! Th...