A Surprise in the Shower
It's been years, literally, since I've composed a poem. My paralyzing perfectionism prevented me from producing poetry. But this morning, in the shower, this sprang up in my mind:
Forever mispronouncing words
A neoglot eternal;
Can speak, perhaps, some Attic Greek
But mixes it with Doric.
Enamored of the intellect
A coward dilettante;
Awash with undercurrents vast
But firmly Apollonic.
Aghast at youth today, at Man
A classicist escapist;
In dreams sings Wotan in Der Ring
But dares not sing in public.
*
What a piece of work am I
How fragile in reason
How insecure in faculty
--10-Feb-2003
Self Portrait, 2003
Forever mispronouncing words
A neoglot eternal;
Can speak, perhaps, some Attic Greek
But mixes it with Doric.
Enamored of the intellect
A coward dilettante;
Awash with undercurrents vast
But firmly Apollonic.
Aghast at youth today, at Man
A classicist escapist;
In dreams sings Wotan in Der Ring
But dares not sing in public.
*
What a piece of work am I
How fragile in reason
How insecure in faculty
--10-Feb-2003