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.
That cat! So beautiful. I'm not Heather, but your poem made me smile. ;)
Posted by: Wende | April 03, 2008 at 11:53 AM
Love the poem, what do New Yorkers know anyway?
Posted by: Mom | April 02, 2008 at 11:39 PM
I think it's a wonderful poem, full of insight and reality.
Posted by: June | April 01, 2008 at 08:50 PM
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 !!!
Posted by: Beth | March 30, 2008 at 10:17 AM
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.
Posted by: Angelika | March 29, 2008 at 05:28 PM
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.
Posted by: Heather | March 29, 2008 at 12:21 PM