I just want to go to a swamp, bury myself in the murky muck and lie there for all eternity. Contemplate the moss. Consider the worms. You don’t need a degree for that
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I just want to go to a swamp, bury myself in the murky muck and lie there for all eternity. Contemplate the moss. Consider the worms. You don’t need a degree for that
okay, but really - what is happening? I went from happily rereading all my old favorites for months on end to suddenly around every corner a new book of poetry calling my name. I'm not sure whether to be ecstatic or to gaze wistfully at my battered bank account.