Little Goats

Okay sure yeah if you insist I'll tell you about more stuff I read. Like, a while back Ann Fisher-Wirth saw me walking around Square Books clutching a volume of Edmund Spenser's shorter poems and she was very encouraging: "The Shepherd's Calendar is fun!" she said. What attracted me was the old-time spelling. Yesterday, I guess, I opened up to a poem called "Virgil's Gnat" and read about some "little Goats" grazing: "Some clambring through the hollow cliffes on hy,/ Nibble the bushie shrubs, which growe thereby... This with sharpe teeth the bramble leaues doth lop,/ And chaw the tender prickles in her Cud;/ The whiles another high doth ouerlooke/ Her owne like image in a christall brooke." Ha ha! Can't you just see the little goats? They are having a great time. All right!