Who says I need a new kitchen floor? Poem: Missing Walter Straus

 Look! I got my kitchen back.

All's right with the world.

Four guys arrived while I was making my morning omelet.

They're hard workers. They don't sit around all day reading John Sandford novels.

My mother will never know.... and we won't tell her!

Scott came over to view the results. Bob W will take a look at some work Scott wants in his own house. That should lower the price for me.

This dessert is called Chia Pod Pudding. For a person w diabetes, it satisfies my love of sweets, but doesn't raise my blood sugar much.

Went upstairs to read my John Sandford book when who should call but my friend Iris from CT.

She loved the poem I wrote for her. She went to the Dunkin Donuts for Iced Decaf - oh, screw it, Iris - go for the Real Thing - and was all choked up.

Thing about writing poems for people is that it embarrasses them. A few people have done it for me but you know what? From now on it's fine.

Lemme print out a famous poem. My friend who disappeared, Walter Straus, born in 1918, told me about this poem.

Click here for Evelyn Hope by Robert Browning.

Here's an analysis of the poem,  which is described as creepy and grotesque.

I will now compose a poem for my departed Walter.

TO MY FRIEND WALTER STRAUS

How I remember our visits
at the Regency Towers
Oblivious of your age
you felt insulted when
you fell a few times
then got pneumonia
and almost kicked
but Amy saved your life.
Now you dwell with her
and her family in
Germantown. You have
forgotten me
utterly.

I want to remember you
when I'd come over and
you'd set the table with
placemats and serve me
a fruit salad, with tiny
cherries, and a glass of
red wine, "just a tiny
amount, please, Walt."

We'd go out on your balcony
where breezes would blow my
dyed red hair and you'd adjust
your black glasses, then
bend down and pick me some
cherry tomatoes to take home
in a baggie.

Walter I miss you. A man so
learned, a great judge of character but
life made a fool of you.

If only we could go back in time.
You'd pull out a book of poetry
and read to me in a soft voice I
thought I would have forever.



Walked Scott to the train station. Stopped at Kremp Florist and bought a begonia for $5 and found this shimmering blue bottle of Bud Lite in the trash.

Gotta make an art project with this bottle and others I have.