It's a bit late, I know, but I got home and the fireworks are still going all over the neighbourhood. The cats are hiding - Scooter in the bathroom cupboard (I could tell by the containers of hairspray and body lotion laying all over the floor) and Sweetpea in some as yet undisclosed location.
And I, pathetically, am sitting here in the dark, hiding from the trick-or-treaters, because I neglected to get candy.
Please don't tell me if I've linked this before: The Sandman. At the moment, I don't need more evidence that I'm utterly lacking in foresight.
I hope Halloween is over soon.
POETS WHO DON'T DISCOVER THE WORLD BEYOND THEMSELVES
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*Interesting things afoot in discussions about the precious craft of
writing poetry, an endeavor fraught with personal assessments of
what-poetry-must...
7 hours ago