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

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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.

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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. 

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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.

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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.