SUMMER POSTING CAN GET SLOPPY
Since the “MC” in my current “WIP” came of age in the “say goodbye” Nineties, I’m about to consume a mess of pre-millennial madness and cultural tidbits and touchstones.
I could proffer the exercise may help keep one young, but why the need to act other than ones’ age? Besides the BS is already a plenty given the waking dream/scheme of conjuring seventy or so thousands of words.
And now another ongoing bad poem.
“Nine Summers In, Some Sixty Years Ago.”
On the porch
Or maybe a veranda
A passing young woman
Prompted a remark by my younger brother
She’s too fat, he fretted
She’s pregnant, I corrected
As my grandmother swung and connected
“With Child,” she reprimanded.
But I did not turn the other cheek
Within a week, I ran away and have stayed
that way.. forever
So what and Shucks..here’s a moody moment muddled by bitrate and software limitations of streaming media a decade or so ago.