The Rat Squeaks

Pablo Casals: The love of one's country is a splendid thing. But why should love stop at the border?

I can’t claim to be a good judge of my own poetry, at least not in the present and not very often. Since it’s mine, I love almost everyth...

My old friends, Sometimes I think I don’t know What any of them are for anymore. Does that sound too utilitarian? Whatever it is, I guess ...

Poetry can be used To look at the small moments Or the big picture, Whichever you like, whichever applies. One minute I’m up to my eyeball...

(Bad Dreams) It doesn’t do me any good to dream of a good game Or to get depressed about it Or to say it aloud or instead be silent Or to ...

All lost souls show themselves eventually, If not perpetually on display. Whether on stage or in the firmament Many stars excel or show t...

Macbeth: To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And al...

I guess I’ve lost the depth of contact With most of the people I used to know Who cared to read my poetry, Who had the taste and the prope...

Even poetry isn’t this unpopular, So I guess it’s me. First you’re alone, is the first thing we learn, Then others die and you feel a grea...

Have I mentioned my new "convertible" red mittens? No, they're red on both sides, but there's a "pocket" for t...