Reader, you are interested in one of three things. One, knowing what's going on in my life; two, reading my mind; or three, just being entertained. Well, you are in luck, because I will address all of these, following:
First, I will not tell you everything going on in my life. It is privileged information. You'll have to ring me up to get the inside scoop. Sorry.
Second, you can never read my mind, because I disclose herein only a limited number of thoughts (censored, if you will). Too bad, so sad.
Third, I'm always funny. Oh wait, that's what my funny funny college friend would say. Me, I am only sometimes funny--and mostly I am too serious. At any rate, my apologies, because today is one of the latter instances.
Ah, now, having gone through all of that so logically, I realize that I have absolutely nothing to say to anyone. I guess my grand scheme for finding something to write about after a rather busy week has fallen to pieces. I can only rehash old thoughts, reprint old writing, or plagiarize. So never mind.
All right, all right, I'll admit that it irks me to have nothing to say, so I write anyway, though it's nothing. So, for the sake of not going more than a week without writing, I will recite a poem I wrote many years ago. The following extremely insightful piece is proof positive that yours truly is a poetic genius and of course deserves to be widely published an also named the next Poet Laureate. Also, I should be given royalties including a crown and scepter. [sigh...in my own little corner, in my own little chair...]
Autumn
When football season starts,
When you wake up before the sun,
When the first leaf flutters
And floats to frosted grass--
Then you know autumn is here.
When it's too cold to leave the windows open,
When you have to turn the thermostat on,
When you step outside in the morning
And there is a different smell, tingling--
Then you know autumn is here.
When the scurrying squirrels start carrying nuts,
When all the fawns have lost their spots,
When the Canadian geese are earnestly flying
Their practice runs above the trees--
Then you know autumn is here.
When you begin seeing pumpkins on doorsteps
When the grocery store freezers fill up with turkeys,
When all the flowers wither to brown
And the grass gives up its summer green--
Then you know autumn is here.
When the harvest moon peeks over the trees,
When the leaves crackle merrily under your feet,
When the days become shorter and shorter
And the nights grow longer and longer--
Then you know autumn is here.
And winter is on its way.
September 5, 2002