epigrams from Real Art
Robert Hass is someone I’ve learned to admire but could never be.
He holds erudite grace in one hand and a cheap domestic beer in the other. This is why he’s the ambassador of poetry!
Sometimes I wake up at night sweating and wondering if Bob Hass ever gets embarrassed, but then I get embarrassed
because calling him “Bob” feels disingenuous in my mouth, like a monkey wearing a tuxedo, or whatever the opposite of that is.
