A few years ago I ordered a copy of Harold Bloom's "Shakespeare: The Invention of the Human" from Quality Paperback Books. I thought that as a college-educated English-speaking person, I should be more familiar with the works of the greatest English writer. I started reading the work earlier this year and got bogged down about halfway through and decided to take a short break. I picked it up again this week and was reminded why I had put it down for a while. That reality is the inspiration behind this original limerick:
While reading today on the train
Few thoughts would stay lodged in my brain.
It seems there's no room
For more Harold Bloom
So I think I may have to abstain.
Perhaps he felt the same way about writing as I do reading his words...
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