I’d say the book was disappointing,
but I had no expectations
of its excellence, so that would be
misleading. I’d say my team’s performance
fails to satisfy, but its salary
and management point to precisely
such a mediocre season. I’d complain
about the weeds that choke my garden,
but their presence is testament to my
indifferent stewardship. I’d say inadequate
is not the aptest word to summarise
the manifest insufficiencies
of life here as we know it, but I
can think of nothing better at the moment.
This appeared in the March 2011 issue.