If Richard Wilbur Were Alive and a Much Less Talented Poet, He Might Write Something Like This about This Latest Quarantine

 

Greenblatt-Shakespeare

 

 

If Richard Wilbur Were Alive and a Much Less Talented Poet, He Might Write Something Like This about This Latest Quarantine

 

Master Will didn’t waste his time,

When the authorities shut down the Globe.

Stuck at home, he wrote King Lear.

Deep into the dark he dove.

 

Sixty years later, when the plague returned,

Sir Isaac, too, avoided idleness.

Sitting beneath an apple tree,

He invented calculus.

 

No obsessive tweeting for those two,

No staring all day at computer screens.

They found much better things to do

Than reposting the latest kitty memes.

 

201712_Why-Poetry-Matters_Article

 

5 Things I Wish I Could Experience Before I Die

5 Things I Wish I Could Experience Before I Die

A performance of King Lear with Van Morison in the lead role and Keith Richards as the Fool.

keith and van

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

An NPR on-location story that doesn’t begin with some goddamned sound effect like a pile driver a-driving (story on beachside construction), a trickle of water a-trickling (story California’s drought), twelve stentorian obese sleepers a-snoring (story on sleep apnea laboratories).

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The sight of Andrew Dice Clay and Howard Stern kissing on screen in a remake of Broke Back Mountain.

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The discovery of a lost semi-nude painting of Jane Austen.

Pauline_Bonaparte_2

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A restorative cure for alopecia.

hoodoo man b & wIMG_2580 copy

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lear’s Fool on Zoloft – a Bagatelle

 

Lear’s Fool on Zoloft – a Bagatelle

And I’ll go to bed at noon.
King Lear 3.6.85

Fetal position is bad for your back,
but so is its opposite the rack.

Lift life with your legs the stoics say
while theists insist you pray.

Avoid extremes, the Buddha teaches
Prufrock avoids all flesh (including ripe peaches) —

unlike silken pajama-clad hedonist Hugh Hefner,
whose rented house is getting on up there.

Trouble here, trouble there,
Trouble, trouble everywhere!

What this adds up to I really don’t know.
So rage, wind! Crack your cheeks! Rage! Blow!

[cue Doris Day] – scratches – Que sera sera . . .

wes the fool