The exercise:
Write a four line poem about: a poor response.
Ah, Trump.
Hard to believe we've come to the end of September already. Hoping things might slow down a little bit once my contract finishes up, but I suppose that's unlikely.
Back to work tomorrow, just for the day. Weather is supposed to be pretty chilly, so I imagine things will be fairly quiet.
Max helped me make apple sauce this afternoon while Kat and Miles napped. Looking forward to having more time and energy to do things like that this fall and winter.
Mine:
Thinking of a trip to San Juan?
You shouldn't.
What would I do if I lived there?
I wouldn't.
2 comments:
Ah yes, how not to lead a country through three hurricanes, by D.J.Trump Esq. I'd say he's unbelievable, but he's showing all the signs of someone who can't cope with the demands the position places on him. I suppose really it's now just a waiting game to see how long it takes before he breaks complete under the pressure of it.
I'm not completely sure your poem helps much more than Trump has though :-P Although there is at least advice in there, rather than just threats and bluster.
The apple sauce sounds nice!
A poor response
We were standing at the alter and the vicar stopped his gab,
I looked into your eyes and said "I do".
You checked your watch, your phone, your girlfriends and your bag,
And said, "Well I guess I have to, too."
Greg - I keep waiting and waiting... he's still hanging in there, somehow. But it's felt like any moment this could be over from pretty much the start. So, you know, it's gotta be soon, right?
Hahah, love yours. So good :D
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