October 23rd, 2011
And as far as comprehension goes, I find poetry actually has very little mystery compared to anything else. Just this morning at the bus stop, a little electronic sign told me my bus was arriving in two minutes, then one minute, then “arriving,” although the street remained empty. Then it was gone. I’d missed a bus that had never arrived. Not a phrase in The Tennis Court Oath can touch that for sheer befuddlement.

Daniel Handler, ‘Happy, Snappy, Sappy’

This whole (brief) essay is delightful: the man you might know as Lemony Snicket in search of the perfect time and place to read poetry.

(Source: poetryfoundation.org)

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