Spam Poem
From a spam I just got (This is almost… something): Their expensive round boots is thinking. Her white shining glasses adheres. The white spoon calms-down. His brothers slopy t-shirt stands-still.
Tag: poem
signals
I have started my murder mystery again. It’s been a long while since I last worked on it, but it still feels fresh in my mind and imagination. I can only take this as a good sign. A good sign, especially since the small short poems, of the type wanted for the book, are coming … Continue reading signals
Tu B'Shevat
Today it’s official: the sap in the trees begins to flow again. Tu B’Shevat starts at sundown, which will be hard to detect with the cloud cover as thick as it is. The ice melts. The cats demand attention. The rain falls and the coffee maker works again. The books get read and the poems … Continue reading Tu B'Shevat
writing
I love my poems. I’m going to herd some of mine around today, as well as others’. They’re always there, you know, if you look for them. I like to pretend, sometimes, that I don’t have “inspiration,” and I’m waiting. But they’re there. Got to go find them. Rather like how Charles Hermite saw numbers … Continue reading writing
white pebble 