Today I’m glad …
For poet Tania Runyan‘s reassurance that those waxed, sprayed clementines (I read the small print after I opened the bag at home) probably aren’t going to kill me as long as I don’t eat the peel.
To learn that forsythia is edible, and tastes (so I’m told) both bitter-spicy and honey-sweet.
For an expert opinion that something I was a little (well, maybe more than a little) worried about is probably nothing to worry about.
To spot poetry in places one might not think — the obits, the bridge column, the toaster oven (and for the pair who made it a series by writing their own toaster oven haiku) — and to see how others played with Tweetspeak Poetry‘s annual Poetry at Work Day.
For independent confirmation (that is, people I can run something by and they will objectively tell me yes or no) that something I thought was weird is, in fact, weird.
And for many other things besides.
How about you?
The Toaster Oven Series
Sandwich is still cold
What’s wrong with toaster oven?
Oops, pushed wrong button
bread is smoking, black
what’s wrong with the toaster? oops
What’s that putrid smell?
Toaster oven wins again.
Pizza never learns.
—Donna Z. Falcone
toast setting high, black edges
I like it that way
Whether you possess
a toaster oven or not
won’t you join the fun?
|Have an orange. I’ve got plenty. Chocolate, too.|
Want to discuss this post with Laura? Catch her on Twitter!