Bird By Bird

Anne Lamott is what I think of as a typical writing instructor (and author, but only secondarily). She's rail-thin and quirky, necessarily liberal and honestly emotive, but she's funny and I can forgive anything if its funny. I'm reading her book, Bird by Bird, and I love it!

I read the following poem in the book, written by Phillip Lopate:

We who are

your closest friends

feel the time

has come to tell you

that every Thursday

we have been meeting,

as a group,

to devise ways

to keep you

in perpetual uncertainty

frustration

discontent and

torture

by neither loving you

as much as you want

nor cutting you adrift.

Your analyst is

in on it,

plus your boyfriend

and your ex-husband;

and we have pledged

to disappoint you

as long as you need us.

In announcing our

association

we realize we have

placed in your hands

a possible antidote

against uncertainty

indeed against ourselves.

But since our Thursday nights

have brought us

to a community

of purpose

rare in itself

with you as

the natural center,

we feel hopeful you

will continue to make unreasonable

demands for affection

if not as a consequence

of your disastrous personality

then for the good of the collective.

Pretty good, no?