Trust Me. I know What I Am Doing
My friend, Margaret Ezzet, in her own thoughtful way,
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! This is sure a hard way to use words
To try to convince you that I’m not being absurd
when I claim to be qualified to edit your grammar.
(I can’t believe I had to look up the
spelling of that word. Is it 'ub' or 'ob'? Oh, never mind.
Even spell check had a problem. I guess you have to at least get
the first letter right.)
I admit that my poetry is not too compelling.
And I do get forgetful when it comes to right spelling.
Yes, I sometimes use words I don’t know what they mean
(and I’m pretty sure the word, ‘they’ in that sentence has a problem I've not seen).
But when I cross out words in your writing I promise it will come out more clean.
(Oh, all right. ”Cleaner,” if you insist.)
So that is my story and I’m sticking to it.
Even though it might seem like I’m muddling through it.
I stand by my credentials—I’ve got the credits to prove it.
It’s just not always easy to make the words do it.
by Ginny Jaques
writer and technical editor extraordinaire
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