June 5: Edward Hirsch, "A Partial History Of My Stupidity," Dumbass

A Partial History Of My Stupidity

by:  Edward Hirsch

Traffic was heavy coming off the bridge,

and I took the road to the right, the wrong one,

and got stuck in the car for hours.

Most nights I rushed out into the evening

without paying attention to the trees,

whose names I didn't know,

or the birds, which flew heedlessly on.

I couldn't relinquish my desires

or accept them, and so I strolled along

like a tiger that wanted to spring

but was still afraid of the wildness within.

The iron bars seemed invisible to others,

but I carried a cage around inside me.

I cared too much what other people thought

and made remarks I shouldn't have made.

I was silent when I should have spoken.

Forgive me, philosophers,

I read the Stoics but never understood them.

I felt that I was living the wrong life,

spiritually speaking,

while halfway around the world

thousands of people were being slaughtered,

some of them by my countrymen.

So I walked on—distracted, lost in thought—

and forgot to attend to those who suffered

far away, nearby.

Forgive me, faith, for never having any.

I did not believe in God,

who eluded me.

_________________________

I start out most of my blog posts talking about myself.  I did this.  I did that.  I hate this.  I love that.  That's what blogging is all about--giving your opinion or ideas about something, for better or worse.  I don't think that I'm an expert on anything.  In fact, I think that I'm pretty stupid about a lot of stuff.

For instance, I don't know how to change the oil on my car.  (I can barely get my spare tire out of my trunk.)

I never remember the rhyme scheme of a villanelle, even though I call myself a poet.  That's what Google is for.

I often forget to bring my lunch to work.

I yell at my kids sometimes, even though they're just being kids.

I eat things that aren't good for me, like Cheetos and chocolate milk.

I secretly love watching Impractical Jokers.

I think Richard Brautigan is kind of a genius.

I prefer Adele songs over Beyonce songs.

I don't care for superhero movies.

I like the film Midnight in Paris, even though Woody Allen is probably a sexual predator.

See what I mean?

Saint Marty is a dumbass about a lot of things.