Saturday, August 7, 2010

I love the smell of flip-flops in the morning.

These arrived in the mail today. I ordered them online last week, having finally surrendered to this empirical truth: Old Navy flip-flips are the only brand in the known universe that are reliably cheap, comfy, and durable.

In other news, at some point in the last couple years I've become more allergic to mosquito saliva. I've got four quarter-sized knots throbbing away as we speak. But my will is strong.

Also, here's a poem fragment I wrote to a prompt a while ago, that's probably not going to end up anywhere.

Prompt: X-ray

High school choir grooved
middle C into my vocal chords,
made tight rope of my throat muscles,
leathered my lungs. Five lazy years later,
would an X-ray today show scar tissue
or the remission of promise?

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