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I’m walking down Main street
when, at the Gratzi,
Frank Sinatra tells me
“everybody has
the right to be wrong.”
He’s right. It’s a good thing to keep in mind,
but I seldom do.
It’s hard when you’re
the one being wronged.
So, I keep walking.
He keeps carrying on,
but I don’t understand what
he’s saying. I’m busy being
worried about being wronged.
Endnotes
Update: I recently recorded this poem as a podcast.
Podcast: Download (Duration: 16:40 — 15.7MB)
I’m having a hard time with a couple potential changes
It’s hard to when…
It’s hard when…
I’m too busy being worried about being wronged
I’m too busy worrying about being wronged
I’ve decided to make the first change, it lends a much firmer prosody. And I’m leaning toward keeping the last line the same, but now that I say that I’m not so sure. In either case I drop the a in about when I recite it.