you can pick your friends…you can pick your nose

     so, i’ve been writing my whole life.  mostly my writing has resembled what you people are “lucky” enough to read here (she said dripping with sarcasm.)  i would categorize my writing as rambling.  it’s very into head and right out through hand kinda stuff.  because it’s sort of a free association thing, sometimes when i go back and read it over it doesn’t even feel like it came from me.  some times i wish it hadn’t, but that’s just the breaks.  

    case in point: when i was in second grade i wrote a poem.  

the sun is high and so it the love from me to you. 

i wish you were a daisy so i could pick you. 

man i thought i was seriously profound.  i thought i was the next dylan thomas (minus the welsh point of view, being a man, & having actually experienced love and loss).  

now i look back and it makes me think of drugs and nose picking. 

deep huh!? at least i now have insight as to why my career as a child poet never took off.  

thanks, 

e

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