I’m on a poetry kick. Get it? Beckham? Get it? Is there anyone out there? No, there isn’t. But I’m so ok with that.
I said it a few posts ago, but the poems have been really coming here and there. One of them has even been entered in a fake contest! (See below). Anywho, I’m happy about it. This is no guarantee that I won’t bemoan the lack of creativity by next week, but I’ll takes what I can get.
The weekend looms. During said weekend, this area will receive the hardcore remnants of a tropical storm. Yes, you heard it here: Somewheres, VA, will see the kind of flooding that usually bypasses us. I don’t know what to say. I just have a major beef with the crazy weather, obviously. I really do. Come personification, the weather and I definitely have a meeting by a pair of flagpoles somewhere. Sheesh. I long for the day when I don’t have to comment on loony heat and numbing cold and, who knows, cows descending from the sky. Yeah, that’ll happen. As my bro likes to say, that’ll happen in the month of Neveruary.