Tuesday, October 29, 2019

Oof! Oof! Away you beast! Away!

 SPOTTED LANTERN FLY.

On the railing of my deck.
 Today is a big writing day for me. More coffee please!
Ernest Hemingway had wrin a short story about sending a log filled with ants into a burning fire, enjoying watching them die.

I threw water over the lantern fly to kill him.

Hope it worked.

In my spare time I'll write a story from the point of view of the Lantern Fly.

C'mon over for some Almond Cake with sweet drizzle on top

Two more days until we put out our candy. I was very tempted by the KitKat.

A very strange thing happened last night. I spent the entire night watching TV. I get reminders from Amanpour, The death of  ISIS leader Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi on Sunday was fascinating to listen to.

At his death we watched hundreds of enslaved women dressed in habibs and their tall male children pour out of their hovels relieved he was dead.

Where will they go?

===
Also there was Chris Kimball in Paris chasing down THE BEST pastry chefs. I've been wanting to learn to make something special and at last I found it: 



A one-layer pound cake. 

==
Too many times I lost the whole blog on here.

Monday, October 28, 2019

Thanks for the invitation BUT

INTERNATIONAL AWARDS DINNER 2019

Friday, November 1
The Pierre

2 East 61st Street, New York City
6:30pm Cocktails | 7:30pm Dinner
PURCHASE TICKETS TODAY
Join us as at our annual Awards Dinner as we present the Pardes Humanitarian Prize in Mental Health to Dr. William T. Carpenter, Jr., the Pardes Prize Honorary Tribute to Cynthia Germanotta and Born This Way Foundation, and the BBRF Outstanding Achievement Prizes.

I love h'or-oeuvres. Please keep the shrimp on ice. Hope you don't mind if I use my fingers.
Should be chilly in November so I'll wear my warm Anne Klein coat I bought in New Hope, PA.
Will wear a red frock like Judy Woodruff wears on the PBS News. 
Lieber Prize for Outstanding Achievement in Schizophrenia Research
  • Alan S. Brown, M.D., M.P.H.
  • John J. McGrath, M.D., Ph.D.
Maltz Prize for Innovative & Promising Schizophrenia Research

There's a Maltz Museum of Jewish History in Cleveland, my home town. Could they be related? Great collections!
  • Christoph Kellendonk, Ph.D.
  • James P. Kesby, Ph.D.
Colvin Prize for Outstanding Achievement in Mood Disorders Research
Dount if Colvin Prize has anything to do with the great singer Sean Colvin who I heard last night on Mountain Stage from West Virginia. 
  • Dennis S. Charney, M.D.
  • Sophia Frangou, M.D., Ph.D., F.R.C. Psych
  • John H. Krystal, M.D.
Ruane Prize for Outstanding Achievement in Child & Adolescent Psychiatric Research
  • Stephen P. Hinshaw, Ph.D.
Goldman-Rakic Prize for Outstanding Achievement in Cognitive Neuroscience Research
  • RenĂ© Hen, Ph.D.    A fellow just emailed me and made my blood boil.He didn't believe my Bipolar One went away. He read in medical textbooks that it's incurable and often fatal. C'mon, loads of progress has been made since then. Am gonna look up one of the above scientists and read their past history. Maybe they like Ruth Rendell Mystery Novels, like the book I stole off a cruise ship. 
  • View her here.  - She's Greek and very accomplished. Stop over anytime Sophia - a popular baby name today, sorta - and we'll have tea and shortbread cookies.

Sunday, October 27, 2019

Front porch you can sit on - Called Bob this morning and he loved the idea!


Top - Nancy Myers' great sitting porch across the street. There's still time since it's only October 27, 2019.

Here's my house.

Where could Bob Walmsley put the porch?

Scott and I had a great sleep during Turner Classic Films' Touch of Evil with John Garfield.

When I awoke it had actually stopped raining.

Off I went to Mom's house. They have a nice sitting porch.



Look, I just drive nice and easy. Going home there is sun glare.

I just walked around the block huffing and puffing.

Saw a friend Eric and his two dogs. Then again when I rounded the block. Now there were six dogs. They stared at me from across the street so I barked at them.

Van Morrison has a new CD. Heard it on Sleepy Hollow this morning. How come I thought he was dead? He's from Northern Ireland and is 74.

Sooo interesting.

Van morrison, slieve donard 2015.jpg

*
The best front porch ever was in Titusville NJ when I was lost as I delivered THE COMPASS to the makers of Risperdal. It'll come to me in a moment.

Sat on the front porch of Eddie Van Nuys. Later I'm sorry to say he threw himself into the river and drowned.

His daughter Michelle contacted me and asked me if I knew where he was. I suggested he took his own life.

Also later on, the Peruvian Ed Quispe died on cancer. He was one of those people who waited until the last minute before going to the doctor. Me and loads of folks sent in donations. It was too little too late.

Eduardo-Quispe-Obituary

Saturday, October 26, 2019

Welcome to Our Writing Group and more








Linda and her mom Jane arrived last. Judy didn't come as she was helping a sick friend.

Linda wanted feedback with her Pure Slush submission about the color Indigo or anything resembling blue.

Her poetry was outstanding. Slush rejects her short stories, but I wrote her saying YOU MUST submit poetry and they'll take it.

I read first - Uncle Judge - and told Rem, in confidence, it was the worst thing I've ever wrin.

Not so, said the group, but I've gotta fix a lot of it.

Rem's Randy Package was very clever and what's the word? prurient? He said it's easy for him to write as he's got all the characters at the ready.

Oh, we decided to have anudder Arts Fest at the Giant on a soon Sunday. I'll have to go over and discuss dates with Robin.

Am listening to the blues show on WXPN.

"Got myself a paid vacation at the state penitentiary."



"I'm two years down on an eight to ten, the beds are hard, here at the state penitentiary."

A round of applesauce for the great BUDDY GUY.

Check out his beautiful website above.

Thank you HAR - Helene Ann Ryesky





Before Helene moved into Manatawny Manor she gave me loads of things.

Here's a few.

In my bedroom I have a photo of the young Sarah Lynn Deming. Helene had studied art at Antonelli Institute.

On the stairs leading into the basement is a photo of a bowl of cherries and a sacred turtle done by one of her friends.

Kitchen towel with a lovely design.

Now it's time to work on my short story.

I go upstairs to type.

Scott n I just bought the cheapest paper available at Staples.
This is really good. Everything is sauteed in butter. AND I am throwing out my black pepper shaker since pepper makes me coff.

My tomatoes were showing their age so I whipped em up with zucchini mushrooms, which are not doing well, and since I only have a few eggs, cheese!

I am throwing out my black pepper grinder at last as pepper makes me coff, even choke.

I capitulated and gave the pepper to Scott.

 

Will serve this coffee when Judy and Rem get there.

Ooh, people on my street will think I have friends!

I slept as poorly as usual. I did have a terrible dream, though.

I arrived at some sort of hell where everyone was covered over with white garb.

Hold on as I sip my coffee. My original plan was to return to bed and continue reading a fat book of Edna O'Brien short stories.

Did Rem inspire me?

Am also reading the history of Nancy Drew by Carolyn Keene and the men who created her.

Was writing in my pink diary - thank you Linda - and remembered a fellow in our group named RR.

Once he and I were in the gift shop of the Michener Museum, while everyone else toured it.

Thought perhaps I'd write about him.

Special thanks to Coach Iris for her batch of cards and a stuffing recipe for Thanksgiving.

Wednesday, October 23, 2019

Writing Group at the Warminster Library - Wrote first chapter of new novel

Just got home from the Warminster Library Writing Group.

I found it fine, the Hard Left on Norristown Road, then the first Right on Emma Lane and another left on Emma Lane.

I brought in a Compass and asked one of the librarians if they would distribute it. We'll put it on the director's desk, she said, but she'll probly throw it away. They want REAL magazines.

I walked away and then turned around.

I'll take it back, I said. I won't have it thrown away. So I gave the copy to the challenged individuals at BARC. I sailed it across the table.

Talented Joyce sat next to me and read only a few pages of her short story. Frustrating that she couldn't read more. Told her to email it to me.

Our table was packed. And then Joe came in  And Meg.

I started my novel this morning around 11 am. Actually I started it last night. Was watching a fantastic show about disabled children. Just finished watching INTELLIGENT LIVES about disabled individuals. Very moving

Am gonna think of a working title right now.

I can't think of one.

At first I named my main character Sally.

Too plain, I thought. DeeAnna. Three syllables?

She has good strong legs. Even her doctor, Doctor Abrams, thought so.

Our 80 yo teacher Eva loved it. Some folks were confused with all the names. But, she said, I introduced them and the group will get used to them.

Found my way home, Ellen got me there. And I followed Janet the writer to get home.

At the light, she said, make a right.

I did but I was so nervous I couldn't remember how to put my foot on the accelerator.

Popped green grapes in my mouth the second I got home. Then some Triscuits. I plugged in my veggie soup. Have just eaten a huge cold bowl.

Looked very good, but frankly, it's not the kind of soup to eat cold.

Took off my earrings but then put em back on for the picture.


 The group commented on my blue hair. I washed it this morning I said and it lost a lot of the blue. Don't worry, I said, I'll shampoo more of it into my hair. We had a long discussion about strange hair colors for young girls or older women.


In class, Eva read one of her stories. We had a discussion about how to pronounce Aegean Sea. I repeated three times uh-GEE-un.
  1. Definition. The Aegean Sea lies between the coast of Greece and Asia Minor (modern-day Turkey ). It contains over 2,000 islands which were settled by the ancient Greeks; the largest among them being Crete (Kriti) and the best known and most often photographed, Santorini ( Thera or Thira).
of course I wanna go there.

What dyou think? I'm daft? Oh no. I think I have it confused with the Panotonix.

Della, we'll take care of that later.


Dover Beach


The sea is calm tonight.
The tide is full, the moon lies fair
Upon the straits; on the French coast the light
Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand,
Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!
Only, from the long line of spray
Where the sea meets the moon-blanched land,
Listen! you hear the grating roar
Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,
At their return, up the high strand,
Begin, and cease, and then again begin,
With tremulous cadence slow, and bring
The eternal note of sadness in.

Sophocles long ago
Heard it on the Ægean, and it brought
Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow
Of human misery; we
Find also in the sound a thought,
Hearing it by this distant northern sea.

The Sea of Faith
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth’s shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled.
But now I only hear
Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,
Retreating, to the breath
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear
And naked shingles of the world.

Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.

*
Eva read a great short story from one of her books. I closed my eyes as she read about her and her sister at the Aegean Sea, Sadly I fell asleep so I don't know how it ended.

Carolyn Hughes
I went to Goddard College with Carolyn Hughes. She worked at  the Peabody School of Vanderbilt University. for 20 years.

Carolyn wants to help this violent world of ours and is now working in NYC and Brooklyn. Read about her here.

Shall I email her?  carolynhughes3@yahoo.com

























Tuesday, October 22, 2019

Sen Pat Toomey and his friend a Sikh - Indigo Poems - Let's make some soup



*

Matt, thank you for your consideration.
Below are two poems.
Ruth Z Deming

INDIGOMANIA

Is it any wonder our eyes
Seek out indigo?
The indigo bunting flies by night
As it escapes shivering autumn
And flies to warmer climes.
The snow-white pooch
Across the street
Bays like a coyote
Leaps like a leopard
Howls like a chimpanzee
Why why why can’t I fly?
Linda comes out
Behave yourself, she rasps,
Wanting to kick her pure-bred
Cockapoo, tethered to the flag post
On the porch. When she comes
Back out, he is ready.
What a long trip it will be
But leash in tow
Off he flies.
*
YE OLDE GAOL CELL

The asylum doors
Are cold and gray
Inside a bitter fate
Awaits those not
Helped yet by the great
Doctor Benjamin Rush.
One man sitting on a bale of hay
In the dank basement sips on
Watered-down milk
They will whip him again today
To rid him of his frenzy
All he sees before him are colors
Gorgeous colors
They’re back again, he shouts
Pink, rose, purple, blue, indigo
Spectacular indigo, covering
The walls, the ceilings, the bars
Cold and gray.
When the gaolers return
They rub their eyes and speak
In low tones.
The man may be an idiot, they say,
But, bye our leave, the man’s
Become a saint.

MATT from the land down under chose the second. 

*

Joseph Wambaugh is still writing crime fiction at 82. Shall I read one of his many books?

This will be transferred to my latest blogspot.
I type it upstairs where it doesn't disappear and then transfer it downstairs to transfer it on z blog.

Drove to CVS on Fitzwatertown Road to pick up a couple hundred dollars worth of meds and a box of Novolog pens whose price had gone up.

A man named Greg sat at the front of the store and told me that Medicare, which I have, is the best health ins. in the world, and that my health ins. Blue Cross is also excellent.

Was just listening to Pamela Paul, book editor of the Times, as she interviewed fascinating individuals.

When I requested one of the books at my library Thomas Chatterton Williams’ Book of Black and White, her interview disappeared. I was pissed!

I had also been doing back exercises as I listened.

So I drove very carefully on the slick roads, having no problem at all.

Sundays with Mom is cancelled. Ellen and Lynn cannot get along. Each refuses to compromise.

For lunch I had baby spinach, a scoop of full-fat yogurt, cherry tomatoes, scallions, and green seedless grapes. And a triangle of watermelon for dessert.

Ever seen my bed? There is not one good book on there. What a dreadful feeling. I did however finish Kent Haruf’s book called Benediction. HARE-uf, I believe it’s pronounced.

If it’s gonna rain at my writing group at Warminster Library I will not go. You know what happened to me last week. The downpour from hell. The “harness” I put on is still wet. And my arm still aches.

I do want to start my new novel. I could make up a family. I could put Ron Abrams in there – he took his own life – and have his granddaughter figure out why he did dat – change his name of course – I could talk about the two rapists who live on a side street – one is dead from an exploded liver.

My kitchen table is a mess – yes, it always is, but this is worse. My pen needles came in at the CVS and I have no idea where to put them!

I plunked my warmest hat on my head, also a warm sweater, and walked all around the block. It was drizzling.

If you want your back to get better you must walk. It did feel great. I can’t walk a straight line, though. My balance is very bad. Do you think Officer Davidio might arrest me for suspicion of drunk walking?

Hope so.

Any way I could work a cop into a novel? Joseph Wambaugh. Will look him up later. Can’t now on my new HP computer. I’d never find where I started.

One good book. That’s all I ask to read. Carolyn Forche, the poet is on my bed. What You Read is True. I think that’s the name. 

Mundane, I’d say.

My friend “Minnetonka” has been depressed for two years. She friggin refuses to change a thing. What’s the def of a crazy person? Doing the same thing over and over and expecting new results. Einstein.

Well, my friend finally decided to see Dr Kenneth Nelson. He also goes by the name Barry.

Look, here’s the Star Date guy, Billy Henry.

Two minutes and twenty seconds less light than we had yesterday.

*
The soup is delicious even tho it hasn't much flavor. 

Also drank some of that coffee that comes ready-made. Good to the second last drop.

Shall I start my novel now?

Let's procrastinate and eat several pieces of dried peaches. Is that any way to lose weight?

Just finished watching INTELLIGENT LIVES about disabled individuals. Very moving

Watch it online

O Davey, my boy. 

Sunday, October 20, 2019

Kevin Belton Bananas Foster

Anyone who's lived in Louisiana has eaten Bananas Foster, says Kevin Belton.

Oops, I just lost the whole thing. To be expected.

It's been months since I watched Kevin.



Rode my bike while watching and salivating in my winter PJs.

Had the pleasure of speaking to grandkids Grace and Max who said Friday was pajama day at school.

They told me what their jammies looked like.

Hey, dyou think they'll invite me over for Thanksgiving?

I sent Scott out in the rain so he could walk thru the swamp behind our house to get to the train station.

Readers, what should I munch on now?

Remember I am losing weight.

I believe I've lost three pounds.


Friday, October 18, 2019

Hello Astronauts Dead or Alive - Perfect Egg Salad - Helene poem

Mae C. JemisonFirst African American NASA astronaut.

October 17, 1956



Oh no! Sally Ride died of pancreatic cancer at age 67.
Tam O'Shaughnessy
American educator, children’s science writer, former professional tennis player
Tam Elizabeth O'Shaughnessy is an American children's science writer and former professional tennis player who co-founded, with Sally Ride, the science education company Sally Ride Science. en.wikipedia.org
  •  January 27, 1952 (age 67), San Andreas, California, U.S. Dead of pancreatic cancer. 
  • Why?
  • *
  • I made the most delicious hard boiled eggs. View pix below. 
  • First I studied the way the two hard boiled eggs looked.
  • I boiled two eggs for 20 minutes. 
  • Then I let them sit for anudder 20 minutes.
  • They peeled PERFECTLY.
  • Mashed them with Hellmann's Mayo, salt and paprika, 
  • Seriously what could be more delicious!
  • Had an idea for my first story with the Times Kron. Am waiting to hear from the Editor. 
  • *
  • Had a good workout at Willow Grove Physical Therapy.
  • Good? Really hard. Shannon was my excellent PT.
I did get dizzy - vertigo she calls it - so we did exercises for dat.
She watches my eyes to see if they keep blinking. Not bad, she said. After the exercises, I wasn't dizzy atall.
Called Mom today. My friend Fran Hazam said friends of hers come over and play silly games. Suggested we do dat at Mom's on Sunday.


  • Finished egg salad, seasoned with salt and paprika. This is Helene's former bowl. I write her frequently. 
  • POEM:
  • Helene, if only you and I were at Bauman Drive in Maple Glen, PA,
  • Aaron at the kitchen table with his jigsaws
  • Pick out a coffee cup, you'd say, and with a jaunt
  • I pick something nifty
  • Can you hear the coffee splash into the cup?
  • Eggs for breakfast, my favorite, Davey Ire Pancakes
  • baked in the oven.
  • Life's coming to an end, you in your 90s, 
  • Aaron already gone, your three kids too
  • Memories stand out in photos
  • Enjoy the books you read at your
  • old ladies' home and remember me and my
  • mom, if you please.




Wednesday, October 16, 2019

If you stop driving, they'll crush you - A Cyclone Bomb



My Creative Writing Group, led by Eva B Priestly, meets every Weds. from 1 until 3 pm. A passionate woman who loves hearing everyone read their stories, she showed us some of her Amazon-published works. Amazon, tho, makes terrible mistakes, but she lets them be, rather than change them and make them worse.

As usual I was doing loads of things before I started my story. Did I know what I was going to do? Be quick about it, I reminded myself. I did not wanna be late.

The title was MY SECRET HIDING PLACE. It wasn’t bad. I checked it over three times and printed it out.

Remember I just got a new printer from Willow Grove Staples and am just learning to use it.
It’s now 8:08 pm and the wind is howling. Scott left for work in the pouring rain. I told him to drive and leave his car in the parking lot, but he didn’t want to leave it there. Then take mine, I said. I don’t mind.

The group liked my piece, though I didn’t write it in present tense the way I was supposed to. Example: I am now listening to the howling wind as if I am in a Peruvian jungle.

Oh no! I better get my candle going as I just heard a gulp-like sound that may indicate a generator will blow.

I was terribly worried about finding my way home. Last week I got lost.

Carolyn, who sat next to me, said to follow her and she’d lead me out to the right street.

By now the rain was absolutely pouring. I gave myself commands: don’t use your intermittent wipers, keep them all the way on. Soon it was Put them on as fast as they will go.

With my left arm, I wiped off the fogged-up window. And set up the front defogger which was useless.

And that Carolyn! She zoomed ahead like a Nascar race driver.

I was on my own. Was I going the right way?

Chickie and Pete’s was on the right. I pulled in and asked which way to go. I had seen a sign for Horsham and thought I was going the right way. They confirmed it, telling me to go right, which I did.

Every part of my body was soaked from my head, to my Indian-style top I bought at The Sweater Mill in Hatboro.

My wipers were going as fast as they could, all my windows were steaming up, I couldn’t see a goddamn thing, but I could not stop driving. Let them all pass me, I thought, as I rode on through the waters, waters that people can drown in, or if, God forbid, my car stalls, someone can crash into me from behind.

My thoughts were nil. Keep on going, do not stop, keep on going. I was wearing my driving glasses which already need a new prescription. I had to figure out how to get into the correct lane in order to get home. I stuck my head out the window and saw I could change lanes.

Then I changed again and made a right turn up a steep hill and made a left by the hamburger joint, it has a name, but can’t think of it.

Almost home now, with a vehicle right behind me, I bounced in the water till I got to Davisville Road – my home my home – then to Greyhorse and finally Cowbell.

Got out of the car and changed into warm clothes.

PS - Scott just told me the name of the storm is called a cyclone-bomb, from Virginia up to the Northeast. This is a rapidly developing storm when the barometer drops 24 millibars in 24 hours. The temperature also drops.



Picture postcards from our friend Rem


North Las Vegas. The woman looks a little like the Land o Lakes Butter Beauty.

Enough stimulation for you? Isn't there a clock around here?
Cannery Casino & Hotel
Cannery Casino & Hotel

Ah, what a relief not waking up at 5:30 am to go to the post office. Got my wonderful REM sleep.

Farewell Mata Hari, read about her life

Mata Hari

On this date in 1917, Mata Hari, was executed for being a spy.

Read more.

Executed in Paris via a firing squad.

*

By 12 30 today, I must leave for my writing group, with copies of my new piece in hand.

If only I knew how to use my new printer. It's got a touch screen.

Tell you what. I'm gonna take a brief nap - it's only 10:45 - and then I'll start writing.

ZZZZZZZZ

Wrote a piece called MY SECRET HIDING PLACE.

Took about half an hour to write it.

Little rain as I headed to the Warminster Library.

We met in the Community Room, a huge industrial looking room. Joyce wrote a terrific essay as did Carolyn who sat next to me. Samantha TOLD her story but will bring something next week.

*
Finding my way home in the torrential rain. Continued after I watch the PBS Evening News.




Monday, October 14, 2019

How will I get to ND tomro night? Sandy Dennis created her own life in 45 years

Ada will be out of town, so I called Sam Valenza, up for relection as Township Commissioner, and asked what his Bux-Mont Transportation Services would cost.

I would order a cab.

His cabs are no longer in biz due to UBER and LYFT.

Competition.

Rem said he would help me out, drive me there and back.

The last time I took Bux-Mont was for the funeral of Denis Hazam. The driver had no idea where he was going and my stomach was swirling in panic.

Scott and I watched the PBS Evening News and learned how Trump is ruining Syria. From the Washington Post

Oct. 14, 2019 at 4:35 p.m. EDT





The abrupt withdrawal of U.S. troops from Syria has unleashed dramatic developments, with Syrian government forces retaking territory long held by U.S. allies and Turkish-led forces expanding their offensive. Here’s what we know so far. 
●Syrian government troops have moved back into towns in northeastern Syria for the first time in years after U.S.-allied Kurdish fighters, in a stunning reversal, reached a deal with the government.





●Turkish-backed rebels have begun a push to retake the northern city of Manbij, which has long been a flash point.
●American troops are still in Manbij but are making preparations to depart, U.S. official says.
●The specific terms of the deal between the Syrian government and Kurdish officials remain uncertain with the two sides offering different descriptions of how much autonomy the Kurds would retain.
@@@@@@@
Hold on while I get more DIPPERS, by Snyders.
So, I got a new printer by HP.

Printed out three pages of passcodes, but then noticed there are two more pages on the floor here.

Will do them tonight, upstairs.

All passcodes must be erased. Simply keep the hard copy originals. One for upstairs, the other for downstairs.

Watched Upstairs, Downstairs on TCM last night. Here is the vulnerable young teacher played by Sandy Dennis, dead at 45 of ovarian cancer.

Sandy Dennis.jpg


This is a woman of 45 who created her own life in only 45 years.

*
Looked up the word dementia last night. How does it feel inside yourself to have it and then when it gets worse.

Visited Eileen next door today as she was unusually quiet yesterday, I thought, when her companion was there. I wanted to make sure she was communicating.

Of course I wrote about the death of my Second Home pal, Burt, a few blogspots ago. You donna expecta me to find em, do ya??

Nay, I couldn't find it.

I did find it as I entered ONE WORD into my search engine: YACHT.

Wonder if there's ever been a novel written by someone with encroaching Alz or the like.

Yes! Author Sam Sheppard wrote a true slim volume about his own.

*

I told Scott I wouldn't be lonesome when he was leaving for the train at 7:20 PM, but I wanted someone to talk to.

MY BLOG!

Shall we write about it?

Our deepest thoughts reside there
an easy exercise while eating chips
and watching strobe lights in honor
of Halloween blink up to the planets.