The Times Kron, for reasons of its own, would not publish WORLD BIPOLAR DAY which was on March 30.
So I sent it to the Inquirer. I could not for the life of me find their email address. Rem found it for me.
letters@inquirer.com
It was a well-wrin short essay.
Oh! I drank Almond Milk while submitting and munched on crunchy Snyder Dippers.
...
Earlier today, Kalie escaped.
The entire neighborhood joined in a race to catch her.
She was having a blast!
Hello Kalie. She has a beautiful face. Her favorite thing is BARKING BARKING BARKING
Let's find more about an Eskimo dog.
About the American Eskimo Dog
The American Eskimo Dog comes in three sizes—standard, miniature, and toy—standing as tall as 19 inches at the shoulder or as short as 9 inches. Distinctive traits include a dense, sparkling white coat with a lion-like ruff around the chest and shoulders; a smiling face, with black nose, lips, and eye-rims that convey a keen, intelligent expression; and a plumed tail carried over the back. Some Eskies have markings with the delicious color name “biscuit cream.” They move with a bold and agile gait.
Eskies are social animals and can develop problem behaviors when neglected or undertrained—they insist on being part of family life. Among the most trainable of breeds, the clever, kid-friendly Eskie practically invented the phrase “eager to please.”
****
I redid my short story Don't Spill Milk on the Piano. Rem was my guide.
When he approves it, I will submit to Literary Yard.
AND NOW, IF YOU'LL EXCUSE ME, UPSTAIRS I GO, my lords and ladies, to snuggle under the covers in my bed, and read.
Klara and the Sun
Encounter
And that Martin Amis novel whose name escapes me.
BYE FOR NOW.
Walter, for Chrissakes where are you? Born in 1918.
TO MY FRIEND WALTER STRAUS
How I remember our visits
at the Regency Towers
Oblivious of your age
you felt insulted when
you fell a few times
then got pneumonia
and almost kicked
but Amy saved your life.
Now you dwell with her
and her family in
Germantown. You have
forgotten me
utterly.
I want to remember you
when I'd come over and
you'd set the table with
placemats and serve me
a fruit salad, with tiny
cherries, and a glass of
red wine, "just a tiny
amount, please, Walt."
We'd go out on your balcony
where breezes would blow my
dyed red hair and you'd adjust
your black glasses, then
bend down and pick me some
cherry tomatoes to take home
in a baggie.
Walter I miss you. A man so
learned, a great judge of character but
life made a fool of you.
If only we could go back in time.
You'd pull out a book of poetry
and read to me in a soft voice I
thought I would have forever.
No comments:
Post a Comment