I discovered this poem recently, by accident. It was shared by a dear friend many years ago on social media as part of many conversations had on the nature of poetry, and the figure of the poet. When I shared it back with my friend, she had no recollection of sharing this with the caption “Nailed it”. We both discussed how the poem is beautiful, but falls short of hitting the nail! I read this poem as a shikayat, a childlike plaint. I understand the spirit in which it is said, and also the myth-making of the poet - by the poet’s own doing as well. But the point of view is reversed here, and the third person defence almost sounds as if one is making an excuse. Thin line eh… still worth thinking about.
