Tuesday, May 22, 2012

News at Eleven: When my mother was very old and in a nursing home,

she surprised me one day toward the end of her life by asking me if I still wrote poetry. When I blurted out that I still do, she stared at me with incomprehension. I had to repeat what I said, till she sighed and shook her head, probably thinking to herself this son of mine has always been a little nuts. [--Charles Simic]

from The New York Review of Books: Why I Still Write Poetry


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