bitterness or self-pity. The speaker has delivered no lectures. She has simply offered an insider's un-illusioned view of age, and made it clear that the going is tough--interestingly and even amusingly tough, but tough all the same. She readily concedes that "it's not the way I'd choose". And then she delivers a bracing, almost throwaway punchline: "Odds on, I bet my life that I will get there, though." It's an understatement, with a hard truth embedded in the idiomatic word-play, a punchline more than worthy of the name.
[by Leah Fritz]
Going, Going . . .
from Carol Rumens: The Guardian: Poem of the week: Going, Going . . . by Leah Fritz
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