For those who cannot see the picture above, please imagine this text is the most hated font of all time*:
There are certain sins
a poet learns never to commit, whether by teaching or simply bad experience. Poetic sins come in many shapes and sizes, grammatical, typographical, metaphorical, or just about any -al you choose. Bad rhyme is a minefield, unable to know slant from abject miss, forced form a train wreck with you at the controls, blinded by ambition. But the cardinal sin, the one for which there can never be any excuse, mortal to a poem, is to think you can use this font.
*comic sans, of course.
A good friend, who we had
not seen in COVID time, visited and we smiled when we saw that she was reading Heidi, catching up she said on a too abbreviated childhood, one sacrificed to circumstance My grandson, soon enough ten, says he is reading Beowulf, though not the Heaney translation, so there are two more books on my books you must read before you die list. Despite reading regularly, the list grows ever longer, and I am beginning to think that if I must complete it, it may be my best shot, my only real shot at immortality.
In Yuma, Arizona today, I have no idea what might have happened. Once, without going to a library and rummaging through microfiche in the dust laden corner of the second basement, I would never be able to find out. And if I did, I would wonder why there was not some simpler way of finding out. Now I can search the internet and know what did happen and what some think happened. I can find truth and conspiracies involving Yuma. It will take some time, but it can be done with relative ease. The problem is that I couldn’t care less what happened in Yuma today or most any day.
Checking the calendar, I see
that today I must make a profound decision that will affect my life for years to come.
I am certain it will not be
a simple decision, important decisions seldom are, and this offers multiple but no easy choices.
I have long taken the facile way
around the issue, a straightforward “same as everyone else does” approach that has gotten me by.
But it is time for a change, so I
am left with organizing my library by month and day of birth of author, year not counting, first name initial,
or, and here is where I am leaning
given my love of the film High Fidelity, arranging them in perfect autobiographical order.