It’s funny ’cause it’s true:

All lyric poems are narcissistic. They are the earliest form of the personal ad. They’ve been saying for more than a thousand years, “I’m a sensitive, vulnerable, misunderstood, barely solvent, lovable little fellow who would like to meet a person of exquisite taste who is not averse to an occasional roll in the hay.” –Charles Simic

(Via Giornale Nuovo, which I found through Caterina; it’s written by misteraitch, who lives “in an apartment in an hotel in a town on the Baltic coast of southern Sweden” and posts all manner of good and beautiful things.)


  1. This reminds me that I failed to acknowledge my source for the quote…

  2. This link to the source of Simic’s quote is dead. Do you know when and where he said it?

  3. I’m afraid I don’t; you might write misteraitch and ask if he can retrieve the source (his e-mail is in the left-hand column of this page).

  4. Sixteen years later: the Wayback Machine found the page, but it doesn’t give the source, just the year 1999. Sloppy sourcing!

  5. Found it! It’s from “How to peel a poem: five poets dine out on verse,” in a discussion of Frank O’Hara’s “Music” (1954), about halfway down the page. Boy, was that satisfying.

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