last night, our lovely little parkdale-loving writing group met for the second time, up a few members.
i didn’t come out of the session with as many gems, though my comment of “i didn’t get much further than ‘defiant ducks'” garnered the response “that’s going to be my next album title” from the person who also said, “i’ve got some nonsense”. so.
one of the new members introduced herself by stating: “my last poem was about a cat…who looks like he’s wearing a tuxedo!”, which is charming as all fuck.
anyway, here’s the takeaway (after a quick morning edit):
i walk down the steps of death into the day. on my way to the bus stop, my eyes automatically scan the abandoned and overgrown lot to focus on that guy who sometimes slips behind the fence to just sit there. we wave and say hi, never talking about the dog that’s always with him, even though it’s always a different dog.
no momos yet, tito ness-i can’t force it. but six more weeks for the planted seed to come to fruition….