Entered my short story Finding Mailman Dante into Pure Slush.
One of the best YT videos was about a runner who was brutally attacked by a young mountain lion in Colorado and finally killed him.
Check it out here.
Also watched a very long video about the daughter of a serial killer in Wichita, Kansas.
Here's a video. From Feb. 15, 2019. Gruesome, of course.
How did you NOT know? is the question Kerri was asked. I think that's her name. She has a happy marriage and two children. Of course after she found out, her life was ruined: panic attacks, psychiatric hospitalizations, suicidal ideation or attempts.
Scuse me while I get my oatmeal w peanut butter and almond milk which is soaking via pilot light in the oven.
Wore my Starbucks apron so I wouldn't drip onto my clothing.
Scott stopped over with the greens and lo sodium matzo ball soup I'd requested.
Who should I write a postcard to, I asked.
Bernie Sanders. So I did.
THE FEAR OF INSOLVENCY
Once we were honored by grants.
That day is no more.
The first thing I'd do
was buy a new CD or two. Glenn Gould,
of course, maestro Karl Richter on organ,
Rubinstein playing Debussy.
The performers are dead, while
the music lives on.
What a wonderful breakfast I ate
Waved to the trashmen
While sipping on vanilla sugarbush tea
and celebrating the craziness of life
one sip at a time.
***
That was yesterday's poem.
Lemme write one for today.
IT GROWS AND GROWS AND GROWS
A spikey plant called Dracena has made its home
with me on my front window sill.
Its stalks, slender as a high heel, bend toward the
light
The other stalk touches the high ceiling.
A strange sound squeaks from above
Fee figh ho hum
I smell the blood of an Englishman.
Why, tis the young Albert Finney, newly dead at 82.
Scott and I will celebrate Valentine's Day at 3 pm today at Bonefish Grill.
I'll bring my champagne and drink only a tiny bit.
Readers, whomever you are.
Celebrate Valentine's Day, the Day of Love, EVERY DAY OF THE YEAR.
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