I rehearse these things/Because I want to and I can.

The lines above and below are by John Koethe from his poem ‘The Age of Anxiety’ in ‘The Best American Poetry 2017’:

‘ …. the
Limits of the poem that’s never done, the poem
Everyone writes in the end. I see myself on a stage,
Declaiming, as the golden hour wanes, my long apology
For all the wasted time I’m pleased to call my life—
A complacent, measured speech that suddenly turns
Fretful as the lights come up to show an empty theatre
Where I stand halting and alone. I rehearse these things
Because I want to and I can. I know they’re quaint,
And that they’ve all been heard before. I write them
Down against the day when the words in my mouth
Turn empty, and the trap door opens on the page.’

A bit like writing a blog, then.