I MEANT to TAPER off my contributions to the ever-growing stream of WASTE, a perpetual end-of-times problem. Instead, here I am, yet again, shopping, collecting bags from the HAUTE fashion stores and falling for another false LATTE. I console myself with some more cinnamon on my iced hazelnut coffee confection. There is always tomorrow, I try to believe.

Georg’ann

We carry a PLAIN piece of wood across a foreign REALM
It’s BLEAK landscape has a simple beauty,
not unlike the wood itself
Arrival at last, relief
A VALET takes our bag
We rest on the porch
Contemplating the grain,
curious what the LATHE will reveal
The artist comes out,
carrying cookies and a creamy LATTE
the bittersweet commission has commenced

Heather