Head Space I still know my childhood best friend’s telephone number even though I’ll never dial it again. I’ve taught certain poems so many times I can recite them on demand, yet some claim that has no practical application. Most find my ability to name the American presidents by years in office amusing before urging me to remember “something important” (like last night’s winning Powerball numbers?). I embrace my savant-esque ability to rattle off every Bob Dylan album and the songs featured on them. I prefer not to cram my head with empty crap on the radio and celebrity gossip, thank you very much. Want something proofread, I’m the resident grammarian, but if it’s scores to last night’s game, I suggest turning on ESPN. I’ve actually read the whole Constitution, not cherry-picked excerpts. Ditto the Declaration of Independence, the United Nations’ Declaration of…
“Head Space,” Poems by Ted Millar
