Saturday, July 1, 2017

Writers Group today at B's - Poem: To Save a Spider in Two Parts

Just biked for 20 minutes after coming home from our Writer's Group.

Why? Rem brought in a delicious pound cake from the Roslyn Giant.

I watched This Old House as I biked. Remember Norm Abrams?

Can we find it?

View it here

Image result for norm abrams photo  Hello Norm and Pal Joey.

Wrote a great poem for Facebook. No one's liked it yet. Be the first on your block!


Part One

Yesterday he was on the ceiling
this morning he's on the floor
with a swiftly woven web
I bat it away with my hand
Then strike out thrice as
I attempt to capture him
in a glass

Done, at last, and dumped
over the backyard rail

The crops have been watered
They arise piggeldy higgedly
Damned if they do
damned if they don't
My duty is to try

Find me outside in my
green lawn chair eating
the same omelet I make
every day. Then it comes
to me, the story I'll
write for today's writing
group though Ken won't be there.

The coffee? Rightly or wrongly
fearing to become an addict,
I sip on a new flavor.

Jamaican Me Crazy. Such cute
names that bode nothing about
their flavor, their bouquet
or the feel in your belly.

Mild, with a hint of chocolata,
Mailman Dante delivered it


Pledge week on PBS.
"Celebrating Black America
and Still I Rise."
Talk about racism!
White-haired Ed Cunningham
can't remember the name
"Still I Rise" as he speaks
to "The Doctor" whose name
he can't remember either.
And later calls him mister,
as does the sister who
asks for our money.

This calls for another sip
of coffee. Fill her up!
Can we enjoy it when we
remember the slaves, then
and now, involved in
the making.

Robust with a hint of chocolata
hugging the hot mug, my tears
fall inside as I sit and enjoy.


Iris mailed me the new coffee. I hoped it wasn't more postcards. I still have 100 left to go. Gimme your address if you want a signed postcard from R Z D.   


My new short story is called Fireworks.

The group seemed to like it. Gotta review their comments.

When I was driving to Beatriz's - and this is true - it was so friggin hot I thought I would pass out!

Go back home, Ruthie, I kept saying to myself.

I was caught at every red light.


Up here in my writing room, I just took the last sip of that delicious coffee.

Scott came upstairs when I was riding z bike and said, "Tacos tonight?"

Sure, I said.

Gimme half an hour. And, I added, find the Rotel tomatoes on the counter.

Image result for fireworks

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