Dark Light

I’m not really limping away from this post, but I am in search of a listserv.

Substack, or Twitter’s Revue? Not necessarily. Maybe even Constant Contact, oh Lord, if it were to serve. Now this intro should baffle most writers/readers
perusing “THE READER.” And so what, he writes.

Time to head out of on-line communities and try to tone poem these trying times via some variation of a listserv.

I’ve been considering the change for over a year, and must say the anachronistic sound of a listserv does ring suddenly fresh, freeing, and comfortably pre-pandemic.

A listserv conjures an individual writer’s hideaway, while a communal post is redolent of a collective lockdown.

How romantic.

At three A.M. nature called and already woke, ( wouldn’t ya know) I iPad into the Weather Channel to get the skinny on that fat assed hurricane headed directly for the perish parishes of Louisiana. This storm has purchase. I worry about all but have a special prayer, previously unheeded, for Lake Charles. I did AIT at Fort Polk. (Tigerland still trigger?)

From there to the old grey lady…(does the NYT still trigger?) where I read about where writers, throughout Gotham’s history, drank and hung about and traded insults and partners and such sad old shit. O.K. story. A hoot if not a holler. And a story from Ms. Dowd, who I think has chosen to kickback in flats.

So much for this and that.

See Ya,

Related Posts

Game Theory

My desktop computer enjoys two monitors…those screens not mirrored…so currently I’m playing a WWII submarine simulation (?) on…
%d bloggers like this: