As a less poetically inclined gentleman once commented, ‘My memoirs are not my confessions.’ These are sentiments I feel a certain kinship with, the duty of a poet is to draw attention towards that which is worthwhile, not to rub the listeners nose in a squalid reality that they are all too aware of. Indeed if a person wants squalor or degradation there are professions out there who desire nothing more than to pander to these unhealthy desires. (And by this I do not merely mean the more self absorbed novelists and similar.)
But still there are times when it becomes necessary to lay out the truth of what really happened, lest people go through life believing a falsehood that might rebound to my discredit.
The Port Naain Philosophical and Debating Society for Ladies of wit and discernment was not my idea. My involvement was only peripheral. It all started…
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