It’s Laughter and It’s Loving I Disdain

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It’s July 13, do you know where your pages are? No beach, outdoor concerts, barbecues, carousels, trips to Paris, Maine, or the Jersey shore. It’s time to buckle down. We are not normal. Personally, I prefer to be by myself for as a long as possible. Inside. I like to see how long I can go without talking. I like to put in my eye drops, pop on my reading glasses, and stare at my screen-mirror-masturbatorium-sandbox-rosary-ghostdance-mask-trojan horse-armor-packing tape-first edition Elizabeth Bishop – and retractable measuring tape.

What kind of summer are you going to have, writing-wise?