Getting a cold on day one of daily poem writing is not very good for the poems. Monday's attempt is a sad and sorry collection of words. Tuesday was an utter failure to even get any words written down. Today, I've managed an ode to cold remedies. I'd put it here for you, but it's really just what you expect: pleading to the gods of soup, tea, Boathouse all-the-vitaminC-smoothies, and tangerines. Maybe later when I don't feel like going to sleep every few hours. Just thought you'd like an update. Not dead. And that's about as much as I can ask of my poor body. Good night.
P.S. Here's Emily's (the cat) contribution to the effort: 5t
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