no end to his creativity. wrote an explicit poem about unrequested auditory intimacies that neighbors in old buildings share. posted in the elevator, then i found a copy under my door. relieved to discover that it was under everyone's door.
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:
Whew!
Great story.
Post a Comment