met the day after basic training ended...in a raucous & seedy bar in san antonio. being that bt meant no drinking, & living with 100 women for 9 weeks, i was perhaps a tad overenthusiastic. he never knew what hit him.
I'm a cook. And I write, sometimes about food, mostly poems. I make stuff. I get lost. I'm worried about vanishing bees, melting icecaps, the decrease of civility in the world, seedless watermelons, and whether there will be enough time for me to get it all right.
1 comment:
Overenthusiastic. What a lovely way to put it!
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