Wilbur is expressing a very human urge. We all love to hear good stories. That's why books like Charlotte's Web and The Catcher in the Rye and A Christmas Carol still exist. They are wonderful tales.
I have not been reading much this week. Nothing new resides in my book bag. I've read a few good poems, but most of my reading has been back issues of Entertainment Weekly in my bathroom. Yes, I deserve to be shamed. I apologize. In my defense, I have been working like mad on my Father's Day poem, which I will unveil to my disciples this Sunday. Hopefully.
At the moment, I'm sitting in my office, blogging, waiting for the rain to start while my daughter is at dance rehearsal. It looks like the heavens are really going to unleash something. Dark, low clouds. Plenty of wind. Dusk falling.
I have decided that I am going to put forth a concerted effort to publish this summer. I have a completed poetry manuscript that I need to place somewhere. Somewhere good. If I am ever going to get a full-time teaching position at a university anywhere, I need to publish. Unfortunately, the old chestnut is true: publish or perish. I've been perishing for way too long.
Well, it's time to pick up my daughter. No rain.
Saint Marty isn't going to get wet. Yet.
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| This says it all |
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