a poem, lost; inspiration, lost

Today's one of those days when I have neither anything important to report nor any inspiration to write anything else compelling.

And, in fact, even the poem I wanted to share with you, a lovely little gem called "Poem," by Douglas Goetsch, seems to exist only behind the firewall of the New Yorker website. It's great, beginning with an apparently casual discussion of finding the poem's theme (which he 'fails' to do, and says as much) and ends with a note made all the more poignant by the fact that you don't even see him building towards it.

But now, I can't even show it to you. I can just describe it, and urge you to try and find it on your own.

So, again, I find myself with nothing to say. So I'll stop throwing useless words into the void and let you get back to the rest of your lives.