Friday, September 2, 2016

Two Good Books - Published in Fantasy Mag - Poem: She Calls Me Mom

You know the tough time I have finding good books to read. I get most of mine from the Wowbrary emails I get from the library. 
 Am reading my first book by Julian Barnes at last. I've had his name tacked up on the side of my fridge for a couple years. 

This is called The Sound of Noise. In ten minutes when I finish this post, I will launch myself back in bed and continue where I left off.

A word about getting into bed. The bed from Sleepys is high off the ground. A small person like myself can't just 'hop' in. I lie on the side on my bed and then move like an inchworm onto the bed.

The other book is called The Silk Roads: A New History of the World.  It's as thick as a Russian novel. 

Just got published in  MIRROR DANCE, a fantasy mag. My little prose poem is called The Dollhouse and is based on Grace's dollhouse, which I haven't seen for a while. Here's the link.

Some of the writing in there is excellent. But when o when can I sit and read the stories.

Sarah and I worked on our kidney memoir today for a couple of hours. It's surprisingly good! Sarah has the final edit. I learned a lot about her.

As I say in my poem below I make so much noise around the house - esp my music - that I keep her awake, even tho she wears ear stopples. 

All my meals she makes for me. Best food I've ever had! A simple egg for breakfast looks like a valentine with crispy edges. It was atop a bed of zucchini and yellow squash with some fancy cheese she brought from Brooklyn.

When I go downstairs I will submit a fab picture of Sarah.


Mom, breakfast is ready.
Mom, your movie's on too loud.
Mom, let me put your boot on.
Mom, lemme kiss your broken toe and make it better.

Mom, sit there and I'll bring you lunch.
Mom, you can put the Chemex coffeemaker directly on the electric range.
Mom, you want coffee with almond milk?

Together again like at the beginning, back in Texas, then
in buggy Village Green, now in our own yellow house.
She hears The Booted One as I clunk up the

I realize I talk to myself when I'm alone. I learn who I am through her. Noisy, forgetful that she's here and so impressed this woodland nymph, this Circe, this barefoot Penelope
calls me Mom.

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