Submitted piece to Grape Growers, draft two. And now, I’m ready for bed. 11:22, finishing the rest of the Merlot from last night. Tomorrow, I’m set on waking at a time when Glenn would, to write and grade and get myself out of this semester and only write and put together some semblance of a novel.. Have a new character and new elemental galactic shove about my day, this character who what when now why– only the poetic pulses tell and narrate, but I see what fate awaits.
She’s there, reading on the beach, light blanket over knees distracted by airborne salt and decibel. And I can’t blame her, but only write her and not submit. In the drawer and in the novel hoping she does and doesn’t read.