I love this poem: The Lanyard
Mar 24, 2003 Writing
The other day as I was ricocheting slowly
off the blue walls of this room
bouncing from typewriter to piano
from bookshelf to an envelope lying on the floor,
I found myself in the “L” section of the dictionary
where my eyes fell upon the word, Lanyard.
No cookie nibbled by a French novelist
could send one more suddenly into the past.
Read the rest here and then go buy his books. (By the way, this poem — like most poems outside of e. e. cummings — is best read out loud. Try it; you’ll like it.) (And by the way again, the author Billy Collins is our poet laureate and he opposes the war.
