For my husband, Harry Scott Gibbons.

And my agent, Barbara Lowenstein.

With love.

To Minerva

My temples throb, my pulses boil, I’m sick of Song and Ode and Ballad-So, Thyrisis, take the Midnight Oil And pour it on a lobster salad.

My brain is dull, my sight is foul, I cannot write a verse or read-Then, Pallas, take away thine Owl, And let us have a lark instead.

– Thomas Hood


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