I cannot run the open mile
It puts me out of breath.
I consider skiing parties
As the close approach of death.
I cannot mount a lively horse,
Nor wield a heavy lance.
I’m too unsteady in a fight,
Not light enough to dance.
I’ve tried my hand at this and that,
One and the other trade,
And infallibly succeeded
Never quite to make the grade.
But tongue I have and use it
For better or for worse;
And who is there to tell me
What is or is not verse.
From Divine Alchemy
