On a newspaper article and two original poems
From The Washington Post recently:
“While traveling through parts of North Africa and the Middle East 20-plus years ago, I experienced a moment of dread well known to travelers through the ages: Just a few weeks into the trip, which would last nearly seven months, I finished the two books I had brought with me.
I travelled a lot when younger and was almost always alone, so books were a consolation, kind of like worry beads on trains, planes, or ferries. My new novel is going to involve long-distance travel and may include the main character reading while in transit.
“Hug” by yours truly
“Methinks you doth hug me too tight!”
“Well I may. Well I might.”
“More gentle would be nice.”
“Could we French kiss? It might add spice.”
“No, sir. Just on the lips will suffice.”
“Next” by yours truly
The next time you see me I shall be wearing a mask.
Might be better than chugging a flask.
You may not recognize me or who I am ask.
Life has become quite a hard task.