The Eternal Return

I have been reading poetry and writing poetry and dreaming poetry. Falling asleep with iambic pentameter fragments swirling around in my brain... There is an outside possibility that I am a poet.

But only an outside possibility. Nothing is certain.

I am being urged by my workshop leader to go the POD (Publish on Demand) route as a way of getting launched as an honest-to-God for-realsies author. Imagine that! Thrills me! Scares me to death!

Scares me to death, kiddies. Really does.

The temptation to say Ah, Who are you kidding?, plant myself on the sofa and lose myself in the syndicated adventures of Rob and Laura and George and Ouisie is tremendous. I've waited too long, I worry, I've nothing that noteworthy to say anyway, I brood. Who'd read me? Who'd buy me? Who'd care if I ever published or didn't? And anyway there's this great Bette Davis movie coming on and it's becoming a favorite; it's strange and atmospheric and I think I like it even better than The Letter. I've just blanked on the title but in it she plays a wretch of a witch named Stanley whose reckless willfulness ruins the lives of just about everyone in her orbit.

Stanley. Love that. And Bette makes it work.

So I could just sit back and watch that again. Or wait about ten minutes and catch The Dick Van Dyke Show.

What is it Bette was famed for saying? If you know your Bette Davis you know where I'm going with this, I'm sure.

"No guts, no glory".

Pretty sure it was Bette...