One of the greatest pleasures of being a poet is when people begin to dissect your pieces.
They come to me, their eyes hopeful and a slight edge in their voice.
"Who's this about, Berkeley?"
"What does this mean?"
"Is this about me?"
It's amusing when they ask, really, because most of the time, the people who ask for an explanation are the same people who never offered me one.
So, in case you were wondering: yes, I'm writing about you.