For All That Is Lacking

I too often give praise. I get exciting news, or I see something in an entirely new way while driving or hiking or looking at my cat asleep beneath my desklamp, and within moments, I can overanalyze it and turn it into something problematic and possibly ugly. I’m tired of that. In part, I’d like to thank a very smart woman I spoke with last evening. You know who you are. *nod*

So, let me try something new, in the way that I do:

Although my house is infested with carpenter ants, my cat’s an excellent hunter.

Although I have no idea where I’ll live in four months, I have (wonderful) options.

Although my son recently posted “I just got stabbed in the hand. Fuck!” as his Facebook status update, he’s not a pot-smoking school-skipper like some of us were at his age.

Wow. That’s a good stopping point. One should never rush into these new life trends. Early March resolutions are exhausting!

Oh, but did I mention that I quit smoking again? Day 12. That’s right. And I don’t miss a thing, Steven Tyler.

So, I want to say it officially, though I won’t, but I will say that I’m excited to fly out to Utah soon, where I will try to put into practice my new happy-lens-for-looking-at-life mindset.

Okay, before the bile rises in the back of my positively giddy throat, here’s my newest poem. Although it’s depressing, I finally wrote a poem in 2010, so that’s something! See? Addictive. Any feedback on this one is entirely welcome. Which is to say, please tell me if you hate parts or like parts or wish I’d kill parts and never consider putting them down in lines again. Thanks.


For My First Dog

(was here, now gone)

Thanks to those of you who made comments (via email or otherwise).

*****