A Poem To Make Heather Laugh

To Make Heather Laugh

the Bed is not made
unmade
never made
I’m not your maid
I need a maid
KitchenAid
homemade
who likes handmade?
rarely paid
LiveAid
BandAid
Lemonade?

Inspired by Beth and with thoughts to Heather, I am  submitting a poem I wrote that was rejected by the New Yorker. Wait - the rejection isn't what made me think of Beth here rather it is the poetry of her postings.

And to my dear sister Heather, if you read this blog anymore, I love you and hope news is better soon. Heather is a wonderful poet and she didn't reject my poetry like the New Yorker did rather encouraged me to submit it as perhaps this is the kind of tripe they publish. OK - she didn't say that but I thought it.

The picture is Toulouse on Easter morning, doing what he does best - looking beautiful.

Comments

[Wende]

That cat! So beautiful. I'm not Heather, but your poem made me smile. ;)

[Mom]

Love the poem, what do New Yorkers know anyway?

[June]

I think it's a wonderful poem, full of insight and reality.

[Beth]

awe shucks....you make me blush !!!
and if my posting does nothing more than inspire somebody, even for a second, well then I've done my job !!!

and what a GREAT POEM !!!

[Angelika]

The poem is hilarious. Glad you shared it on your blog.
Funny how the web enables us to publish our musings these days.
BTW, I once wrote a book, and it got refused by all the publishers I sent copies to. Ha, and in retrospective I am so glad it never went into press, because it was just to much of a bad bio anyway.

[Heather]

Thanks, Sarah.

I'll be ok with time to put disappointments in perspective.

It's great to be loved.

On another note--the Zombie T shirts are in.