Hamadryad

Sick from the dizziness disease last night so I woke with it this morning
I walkde the damned dog who cost me so dearly 2 days ago
I saw the first copperhead of the season, bloated with its kill, probably a small mouse or mole.  it was poinsonous and lovely red-grey on the grey dirt path neither threatening after its meal nor threatened, indolent
I arrived home and had a rare treat, a hot bath and a good book
oh how i envy the author who made love to every word in his book
not like the dry writing I vomit which sucks the life out of me and everyone around me
Dare I share it with you?  Give a bit of it so you can find pleasure in its chromium yellow prose?
but yes, it describes something early and life has no value if one cannot every once in a while say "I love you" and mean it, however dry and brittle it is otherwise
"He shut his eyes and saw a vison of her in a red velvet cloak (how sad that no one wears cloaks anymore), swaying into the little restaruant where they sometimes dined togetheer in London.  Three quarters of an hour late (sounds familiar I dare say) and he (me) at his (my) table, haggard with anxiety, irritation, hunger (for her).  Or, she was damnable"
I set my book of poetry aside, to kill all creativity for a while; to prepare for the upcoming challenge to see the value of my work over the last few years, brought to a crescendo in a day in April.  So much to anticipate, dread, scorn, fear and hope for.
Then I will hopefully have enough done in my killer book to pick up my book of poetry and finish it.
I turned on the tv tonight for only a minute to hear on the simpsons a greek bar owner give his last name, perhaps the high joke of the entire show that la fleur, the french for flower I suspect, however bad my spelling, was hard to remember but not the bartender's name.
Perhaps if I had not been raised in a world where satire was delivered without effort from a thousand miles away, i too would have learned to write, loving every word.
Dry, clean and relaxed, too tired to write my brittle physics, I will lay down and read the book with so much love in every word and wonder how deeply the author might have loved outside of his dictionaries.