Commentator

I attended the ‘Lifestyle Trainers’ exhibition at Birrarung Marr on the banks of the Yarra yesterday. It was an exhibition to publicise the health and fitness website I have been writing for as an ‘expert commentator’. It tickles my ego to be billed as a commentator, probably because the implication is that I am currently paid to give my opinion. Thinking about this pricks a small space somewhere inside me, which I suspect if very close to whichever metaphysical organ can be described as my conscience; by way of justification or explanation of the commentator tag, I offer something  chanced upon again the other day in one of my most prized possessions, The Collected Works of e.e. cummings.

may my heart always be open to little

birds for they are the secrets of living

whatever they sing is better than to know

and if men should not hear them men are old

may my mind stroll about hungry

and fearless and thirsty and supple

and even if it’s sunday may i be wrong

for whenever men are right they are not young

and may myself do nothing usefully

and love yourself so more than truly

there’s never been quite such a fool who could fail

pulling all the sky over him with one smile

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