Last week it occurred to me that I am 52 this year, and that,
coincidentally, my height is 5’2” and, since
(1) there are 52 weeks in the year (crazy right?) and
(2) I did not make any New Year resolutions,
that perhaps I should do one thing a week.
A poem seemed a good idea since
(1) they are short and
(2) I don’t have a ton of free time.
So, here we are at the end of January, and I haven’t even gotten
my first poem completed. This tells me two things:
(1) I am a shockingly slow writer and
(2) resolutions are stupid.