I love seeing people write poetry, but sometimes their poetry makes no sense.


It is similar in some respects to the perfervid posts I see sometimes on Facebook, written by someone who feels strongly about some issue but for whom English is a distant second language. It becomes difficult to respond to the thought and the feeling because it is so hard to weed through the awkwardly wielded language.

But carry on, quoth I.

Today I have an exciting pre-op meeting in anticipation of a small surgery on Friday the 13th--my lucky day! May Mom protect me.

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