I've got a hacking cough. As long as I don't start, I'm all right. But once I feel my lungs start to hiccup, I know soon I won't be able to resist and the spasms will come.
THE LAST OF THE RUM COFFEE
I sipped it upstairs in bed
in the cat cup as I locked
myself in bed, vowing to
finish at least one of my
now-overdue books, the
Tom Hanks I could not get
through, but out of honour
and respect, I picked up
the short but profound
book by the ALS-dying
Sam Shepard.
Taking tiny sips of
coffee, as Sam himself
died slowly in his
wheelchair on the porch.
The last pages were
magnificent, his entire
family, the men especially,
pushing him down the dust-strewn
road toward his deliverance.
***
Today, Saturday - no writing group - we're all sick - I stayed in my dark room and watching cooking shows.
Had no idea they were on on Saturdays.
America's Test Kitchen...
Mary Ann Esposito...Italian,,, she made an awesome fish soup
What? You're not looking at the links?
Just visited Scott now. Worst cold he ever had. He'll call the doc on Monday, he said.
He loved the sweet Mandarin Oranges I got him.
I love them too.You know what? I avoided oranges cuz of my diabetes. How foolish!
I did treat myself to frozen strawberries and blueberries.
Shockingly cold! And delicious.
I'm gonna write a poem now. Excuse me while return to my childhood home of Cleveland Heights, go to the third floor and compose.
WE'RE COUGHING LIKE DOGS HERE IN PHILADELPHIA
Quick, I'm pouring the chicken soup down my throat,
the broth soothes with spiral noodles
and tiny chunks of chicken that resemble
Purina puppy chow.
Cough! Cough! Sometimes a burst resembles
a nocturne by Chopin, which Mrs Kultti
my teacher called Chopang
or a burst of the trumpet that prophecied
victory by the Alfred Deller trio
Sound the trumpet! Cough cough cough!
Sound the trumpet! Coughghghghgh
Sound the....nevermind.
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