Trying to be a poet — a writer — is pretty farking lonely. It’s dull. It’s really hard work. That’s why I like blogging so much — ostensibly. You get to switch windows for a minute now and then and get a little feedback, some human interaction. You post something, and check for comments on the things you posted yesterday, or whatever. Like checking little cyber-crab traps.
My traps keep coming up mostly empty. So it goes. No more sailing around, wondering whether I’ve got crabs. I’ll be kicking back on the pier, having a tuna sandwich and tossing the crusts to the gulls.
