In a completely rational society, the best of us would be teachers and the rest of us would have to settle for something else.
Happy Poetry Friday! Thank you for coming to the round-up!
Hope you're having a nice week. I tried something new yesterday -- making crème brûlée. It was a larger undertaking than I expected, haha. Couldn't get the sugar crust to work but the custard was great.
Today's poem is a fun one by Geoffrey Brock:
Prof of Profs
By Geoffrey Brock
For Allison Hogge, in memory of Brian Wilkie
I was a math major—fond of all things rational.
It was the first day of my first poetry class.
The prof, with the air of a priest at Latin mass,
told us that we could “make great poetry personal,”
could own it, since poetry we memorize sings
inside us always. By way of illustration
he began reciting Shelley with real passion,
but stopped at “Ozymandias, King of Kings;
Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!”—
read the rest here (you don't want to miss the ending!)
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