My Little Golden Book of Phobias

I got two poems accepted to 21 Stars, yeah! This makes me pleased, happy, glad, life is worth living etc.

A nice person in my suicide group has offered to give me some of her checks to make up the difference in my pathetic fund drive. Then we're walkin' 20 miles, from Seattle Center to Seattle Center, wha? I haven't seen the route but I bet we will wander downtown aimlessly, wearing headlamps and camelbacks. Eventually we end up at the fountain. I'm supposed to decorate a paper bag for a luminaria. I think I will put sequins on it. My brother was so not a sequin kind of guy. I might wear a feather boa however.

Josh sent me a poem about mint. I might try to write about mint. I'm turning over a new leaf, so to speak. I'm going to write garden poems now. Nice poems, I can too, I can write some kind poems that are not full of razors and blackened fingernails. The ones you hit with a hammer, the hammer you used in the garden to smash the dandelions, no wait, that's not it. I'm going to try really hard, I can change, I can.