cause it did rain and it hasn't stopped raining since yesterday. I'm not complaining. It gets me out of yard work. I did have to turn the furnace on though.
Bet you can't believe how boring this blog post looks to be. Blah, blah, blah, the weather, blah, blah, blah, I'm middle class. It's just that . . .
Rain makes me boring
I should stay in bed and keep snoring
But I have to go to work and teach
At least that's what I'm calling it these days
The semester is really winding down, with only nine more days until I get final papers from both classes. Then the action begins. Pinhead is coming on May 8th, so I have to get all papers done before then. She likes constant attention, and will say "Look at me mom" repeatedly if she doesn't get it.
My friend Mikey is visiting and I hope that between the three of us (he, Patrick and I) we can get some Pedi Paws work done on Missy. Missy may not be good about the Pedi Paws, but she shone during bath time Sunday, standing still while I showered and blow dried her. Not like a certain white cat who got a little agita on Saturday.
Well, I'd still like to hear what people would write poems about, so c'mon people. I said boogers, but what about the rest a yuz?
Happy Anniversary
My Loves
Vincent Murphy
Central New York
Rocks!
Spring
Come On!
Awwwwww
I miss my Missy
Better Days
they'll come again
Alicia Vida Billman
is 29 today
This says it all!
Friday noon, you're coming home with me Vinny.
Vincent Murphy?
What!?
Tuesday nights
are gonna change in May
Mr. Murphy
waiting for his haircut
When I get bored
I take pictures of myself in bathrooms
Graphic Boulevard
blown transformers and a tree
Cars in Bergenfield
didn't do well
House on Queen St
with a for sale sign in front of it
Bergenfield
Storm 2010
Vincent Murphy
and his look alike Bob Murphy
Off my back porch
Don't worry I didn't take this pic while falling
Down Kellogg Street
Up Kellogg Street
My house, our cars
Winter 2010
Summer!
I want summer back!
I want to write poems about nothing... I want to flip open the dictionary to ten different pages and point blindly to the page, and pull the words off to make a poem. I have done it before and it is quite the challenge, but it helps keep me on my toes.
ReplyDeleteI'd write a poem about the next-to-bed pile of debris that sex generates... e.g. tissues, condom wrappers, etc. It's unsung.
ReplyDeletei dont unders5anf the com tooter.
ReplyDelete