A novel novel’s in my hands today,
expensive and well-written, but alas,
it seems to lack a plot. For English class
it may suffice, but me it turns away
to open neuroscience newly bought.
Then how I wish the author better taught!
Too thick with anecdotes, too thin with fact –
I search my shelves for something to distract.
And soon I pull my favorite out to read.
Two hundred years in print and perfect still.
From one to two, my reading now is three’d –
I flit from new to new to gentle thrill.
I claimed I’ve read the best, the great, the strong;
you called me arrogant, but you were wrong.
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