Wednesday, February 26, 2014

Homemade cream of mushroom soup leads to disaster - Poem: The Phlebotomist at Quest Diagnostics

Cream of Mushroom Soup, made with soy milk (or almond milk). I stepped away from the gas range for no more than two minutes. When I returned the soup had bubbled over and an inch of soup, mushrooms and vegetables were down in the guts of the gas range.


I'm not gonna complain about my lack of money or how I detest spending money, but I bought an electric cooktop from my friend Joe Moore at Gerhard's Appliance, done over the phone.

It's on order. My electrician Mike will install it. Mike always undercharges me. I said to Scott, he'll charge me $20 and I'll give him an $80 tip.

Movies! I've seen a few. Gods and Monsters - 1998 - with Shakespearean actor Ian McKellen, who plays the director of Frankenstein and other films. As an aging homosexual, he is attracted to Brendan Fraser

Above is photo of Cousin Lloyd, who I thought resembled Ian McClellan.

Back to my gas range.

I had the cleaning job of my life ahead of me, lifting up the white panel and using every towel I had to sop up the soup

 Old Caloric gas range. I packed up the knobs and burners and put em in a plastic bag for Trash Day the morrow.
Kept one burner alive to cook on. Eggs, my fave.

Reviewed the Compass proofs last nite, brewing a cuppa decaf. You know what? It doesn't really keep me awake, but I sure love the taste.

Bedtime reading included

Despair (novel) 1st edition coverart.jpgWritten in 1930, Eng. translation 1934. Gotta finish in a week for my Book Club.

Anything else you wanna bore your readers with Ruthie?

Yes! Certainly.


"Your Red Cross Supporter Card enclosed." TRASH

Request for more money from WHYY - TRASH

Credit Card bill - HANDLE WITH CARE - am eligible for dividend check of $50 which will help offset new cooktop

Huge cache of junk mail - TRASH. Will help my township make park benches from it.


She walks on silent feet
draped in a floor-length
blue scrub
let’s call it a ball gown, as she glides
from room to room
attending patients
who take to her
curious about a Muslim
in our midst
her black headdress
only accentuating
an expectant face and
wide eyes that scream
with tenderness and
love of humanity

We say nothing about
Muslim atrocities
that wound our world
or revenge-seekers
doling out meanness and
killings and a made-up
code of ethics suitable
for a diaper-wearing

I tap my book
The only time I get to read I say
She, too, is a reader,
as I surrender my left arm
and hold it out
the silver needle
penetrates then probes
quickly finding gold
or shall I say dark rivers

I watch her, Hagar,
mother of Ishmael,
and all of Islam
as she fills four clear tubes
with long deft
sparrow fingers
and unvarnished nails

We sit, afterward, as she
writes out the order
and asks for my signature
I sign slowly to prolong
our encounter
my mid-day meditation
with Naya the Phlebotomist.

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