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(Homage to Lorenz Hart) Some nights, can't sleep, I draw up a list, Of everything I've never done wrong. To look at me now, you might insist My list could hardly be long, But I've stolen no gnomes from my neighbor's yard, Or struck his dog, backing out my car. Never ate my way up and down the Loire On a stranger's credit card. I've never given a cop the slip, Stuffed stiffs in a gravel quarry, Or silenced Cub Scouts on a first camping trip With an unspeakable ghost story. Never lifted a vase from a museum foyer, Or rifled a Turkish tourist's backpack. Never cheated at golf. Or slipped out a blackjack And flattened a patent lawyer. I never forged a lottery ticket, Took three on a two-for-one pass, Or, as a child, toasted a cricket With a magnifying glass. I never said "air" to mean "err," or obstructed Justice, or defrauded a securities firm. Never mulcted—so far as I understand the term. Or unjustly usufructed. I never swindled a widow of all her stuff By means of a false deed and title Or stood up and shouted, My God, that's enough! At a nephew's piano recital. Never practiced arson, even as a prank, Brightened church-suppers with off-color jokes, Concocted an archeological hoax— Or dumped bleach in a goldfish tank. Never smoked opium. Or smuggled gold Across the Panamanian Isthmus. Never hauled back and knocked a rival out cold, Or missed a family Christmas. My list, once started, continues to grow, Which is all for the good, but just goes to show It's the good who do not sleep. — Brad Leithauser, poet Excerpt from Curves and Angles. Translation copyright ©2006 by Brad Leithauser. Excerpted by permission of Alfred A. Knopf, a division of Random House, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher. In honor of National Poetry Month, Knopf will give you a free poem every day |