Creative Juices

The Ice Queen and I are having a poetry party over here. Stop by for a visit if you dare. Today's topic is a little steamy.

We've been talking about hosting poetry readings in a central-to-east-end bar, bistro, or pub. Would you come?

Would you read your own poem? What's it about?

Restorative, but fattening

I made it through the whole summer without gaining a pound... until my vacation last week. Was it the potatoes? The pasta? The flatbread? Yes, and then some. The bottle of scotch that I drank with my sister-in-law on Monday didn't help either. I'm distressed (and still a wee bit hung over). Four pounds in six days. Imagine if I hadn't bought the low-carb lime coolers? Egads.

Ok, I'm over it.

The first week of September is our favourite time to go away. It's cool at night, warm during the day, farm produce is at its peak, and we are distanced from the back to school media assault in the city. I saw a shooting star. I picked tomatoes. I took naps.

I also read John Irving's A Widow for One Year, a basically good novel in which some characters masturbate a lot. Chapter eight is titled A Masturbating Machine. It was a bit much, really.

I'm over that too.