|if you look it up, there's a picture of me.|
He drove away. The house was quiet.
|I just want an internet beat that|
gives me the good stuff. That's all.
Ted Hughes drafted long hand, then
crossed things out. I am drafting
on my laptop. I haven't got to the
crossing things out part yet.
And then started a draft of my/the/a poem. [insert joyful emoticons and exclamation points!]
After awhile, I betook myself to the cinema for an afternoon showing of a movie that has been fairly universally disliked. I brought my own treats: half of a fennel bulb, saltines, a packet of cashews, and a water bottle with my favorite iced tea/limeade concoction. I was the only person in the theater. As I watched the movie, I could see where people would find things to criticize in it. It wouldn't be hard. And yet, as I sat there, the sole person laughing at the jokes and crying, a little, at the moving parts, I thought, but I still like it. It's not like I was trying so hard, either. I liked it.
Oh, like I'm going to tell you what it was. I can feel you judging me already.
|my Greek panzanella was even|
more delicious than this picture.
Make and eat that salad, my friends, and be whole again beyond confusion.