July 7: Another Night, Another Submission, Another "Web" Dip

Another Monday night.  I spent the first part of the evening vacuuming my house.  It took me a while to get motivated enough to push a vacuum cleaner.  It didn't help that I went for a run this evening and pulled something in my leg/ass.  I can actually feel my heart pulsing in my thigh right now.

After I cleaned my carpets, I did another submission of poems to a literary journal.  It took me a while to find a place currently accepting submissions.  An hour and a half, to be specific.  It was probably a monumental waste of time, but it's nice to have something for which to hope, if only for a little while.

And now, another Web dip:

Will I get published this fall?

And another answer from E. B. White:

Charlotte was delighted with the way her trick was working.  She sat without moving a muscle, and listened to the conversation of the people...

So, maybe I'm Charlotte, and maybe my trick is going to work.  People are going to talk about my poetry.


Saint Marty will accept that.

Pick a poem, any poem

April 9: Gratitude Thirty-Six

Tonight, I am grateful for a clean house.

I spent a good portion of my evening sweeping, mopping, vacuuming, and scrubbing.  The air smells like citrus, and the water in the toilet bowl is blue.  I love sitting in a clean home.  It makes me feel calm, in control.  Even if the world is falling apart.

I know I'm not in control of my life.  That's been proven to me over and over these last few months.  But I'm pretty sure that, when I get to heaven, it's going to smell like Lemon Pledge.  Maybe Pine Sol.  And the sky will be clean as Windex.

Saint Marty's sure of that.

The smell of paradise