Self Indulgent Confessional Poetry

The above vice is one no writer can resist. We've even been known to read the autobiographical meanderings of others--things that should be stuffed under the shrink's couch cushions and forgotten about--on the slender hope that someone will read our own little secrets.

I'm no exception. I TRY to write things that don't reflect my own pathetic life, but all too often, I find myself indulging in every writer's vice. The previous post is an example. I've gone from laughing about space travel and the paranormal to zoom back to earth with the sound of a penny hitting asphalt at the speed of light.

Am I entertaining? Not this time--merely truthful.

Sorry, Dear Reader! Maybe next time.

Cousin Kate