Being Shakespeare is a heavy burden.
\nHaving a way with words.
\nI encounter him at night,
\nfreezing, trying to define himself
\nto the empty air,
\nand it does no good.
\nHe still is full of grieving,
\nlaughter,
\ncourageous and afraid.<\/p>\n
And I watch and say to him,
\nWill, you are too many men
\nat one time.
\nA dozen lives cramped in one.
\nNot a multiple personality,
\nbut you hear everything talking,
\nmaking up stories and verses.
\nSo that you are, for all your gifts,
\nleft with nothing.<\/p>\n
And Will nods.
\nHe never replies, busy as he is,
\nwith perfect lines that burst inside him
\nlike rockets,
\nvisible to a genius
\nwhose words strip the world clear
\nand make it glorious.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Being Shakespeare is a heavy burden. Having a way with words. I encounter him at night, freezing, trying to define himself to the empty air,…<\/p>\n