As someone who keeps meaning to re-read Molloy, Malone Dies, and The Unnameable (and who has seen multiple productions of everything from Happy Days to Breath), I definitely consider myself a fan of Samuel Beckett. (I even did elder care for a scholar who wrote extensively on the Nobel laureate.) But I still don't know why I chose to write this particular poem or why I was inspired by the 88th Psalm. Even so, I'm thankful to The Raven Review's Founding Editor Rachel Strickland for publishing it!
Beckett's 88th Psalm
I’m buried up to my neck in shit.
My breath can’t hold out long.
I see the world from a sinking pit
where I’m pressed to write a song.
For yours is the glory; you can resurrect
as a Peep in an Easter basket.
And mine is the fate of the derelict
who put all his eggs in one casket.
First published in The Raven Review, Volume IV, Issue 2 (April 2023). The accompanying image is a sepia-toned, cropped version of a public domain caricature of Samuel Beckett by editorial cartoonist Edmund S. Valtman.