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February 1st, 2014

This is good toplessness.

Today's wet wet heavy snow is like what I recall in B-more, making our usual dry wafty Charlie Brown unreal grand. There's so much now swept off the stoop that Lula for the first time stepped off the edge, mosh pitting briefly with her (dog) paddling turns before hoisting herself back to the stage.

It turns out Olga's is a chain, unlike in B-more, where it was a Russian woman with the chick peas and chard.

I got a letter from not-Olga O. First in a while. And now I am sitting and will open it and read.

 
Janus
fflo
'Ff'lo

Hello.

CURRENTLY FEATURING
the
Postcard of the Day

(a feature involving a postcard on a day)

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For another postcard thing, see
my old postcard poems tumblr or
its handy archive.

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Many posts are friends-only; livejournal "friend" me and tell me who you are if you wanna read.

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"What was once thought cannot be unthought."

-- Möbius, The Physicists

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"The moment of change is the only poem."

-- Adrienne R.

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