“Epigrammatic” is too weak a word for today’s poem - it is one of those poems that seems to have been written to be quoted. It has that combination of insight and pithy phrasing that make it almost irresistible to drop into a discussion wherever appropriate (and often when not!), and needless to say, I have been far from immune to the temptation. (Anecdotally, it really does work to get someone off that particular hobbyhorse - there is nothing much one can say in reply to it.)

I suspect part of my liking for the poem is the fact that Hein shares my annoyance with the overpervasive aspects of dream interpretation and Freudian psychology (in another of his grooks he says

  She gave me hope
  she gave me love,
    with bounty unalloyed.
  But what she had of faith,
  alas,
    she gave to Freud.

which leaves his feelings on the matter in little doubt). I also love his ability to sum up an entire argument in a few well-chosen words (a talent that is very much in evidence throughout his body of work) - there is a satisfaction to watching him at work that is quite independent of which side of the argument he’s chosen.

That said, I must admit I like this more as a quote than as a poem - the verse itself feels slightly ‘off’, so it’s not as much fun to recite as some of Hein’s other grooks. Nevertheless, it’s definitely one of the more memorable ones.

— Martin