One Thing Leads to Another (again)

Who we are and how we respond to the world depends so much on how we have furnished the rooms of our mind.

Re-posting from last year, in honor of the start of Intergalactic Poetry Month.

“April is the cruellest month,” as Eliot says—and only partly because he insists on spelling “cruellest” in a way that makes my spell-check go insane.

Enjoy!

I was flipping through a poetry book over the weekend and landed by chance on “The Destruction of Sennacherib.” If you…