I can only laugh at myself

I've been reading Out of the Dust
and it makes me think and write
like this, in lines instead of sentences
Robin says it's spread and my God,
it has, but today is all sunshine and yarn stores.
I combatted (is that even a word?) squalor by clearing the weeds away from my succulent.


warning: I'm working on a (ha) thoughtful post about 'why blogging?' and 'do I care who's reading this?'