The filing cabinet is overrun with magnitized momentos. Cuban postcard, Cuban postcard, Moroccan lamp.
I've tried to be magnanimous with my books, but I like possession. The greatest gift a person could give me would be a label-maker.
Here is my thesaurus. Here is my chair. This is my telephone with its bright blue buttons.
The window to my office shows my dowdiness. My jeans are from yesteryear. So is my mug.
I have an earache which makes me hum.
Students knock at improper moments--food in mouth, teacup.
Friends say coffee is my oeuvre. I make a mean vat of Supremo.
7 minutes ago
1 comment:
odlp, you, dowdy? i don't think so. jeans from yesteryear are ok if they are 501's on a man. i see you as neither the ultra low rise waist, bootcut, nor the baggy prison chic type.
Post a Comment