Magnetic Poetry 365:137

Apparently when one has been thirty-five as often as I have, one does not make a whirlwind sneak attack trip to New Orleans to see friends. I am EXHAUSTED.

Randomly pulled the words for this poem, put it together, shot it, and then thought, Good grief. It’s fortunate I didn’t go to any panels, readings, or classes at Saints and Sinners this year, or someone might mistakenly think I wrote this in response. NOT SO. I wouldn’t return to S&S as if it’s whatever the one-winged dove’s* version of Capistrano is if I didn’t love writers to pieces. Besides, if you read the last line of the poem…

*Stolen from Marika. To create is also to steal.

5 thoughts on “Magnetic Poetry 365:137”

    1. You can’t hold the makers of Magnetic Poetry accountable for my theft. All you can own is MY magnetic poems. I’m sure the poems will bring you exactly the great wealth and acclaim they have brought me.

    1. It sounds as if your trip to New Orleans was as busy as mine! Thanks–it was nice to meet you and Cary, too.

      1. It was his first trip to NO so, yes, we tried to cram in as much as we could in 2 1/2 days & 3 nights.

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