…And I Take My Whiskey Neat

​I’m easily distracted, but I don’t think I’m wasting time.
Covid cannot be redacted, so I make masks for me and mine.
(I’m also making some for friends, and some to donate, too –
in these days of life and death, it’s the least that I can do.)
But I’m writing, and I’m editing, and hope to catch all errors,
though they aren’t due much credit in these days of many terrors.
Still, I’m aiming to revise the books I’ve written up to now,
to turn them into e-books, and I’m slowly learning how.
(I just did a slim volume of stories and pomes in digital and paper.
It’s scary to click on “publish,” and gave me a touch of vapor.)
But I’m easily distracted, from proper rhymes and grammar,
by what I see and hear about the current mellerdrammer.
A character, the other day, took a clear and present stand
and gave me a couple thousand words of the story she demand-
ed, and so I’ve filed it, for NaNo in November,
if other characters don’t come around and fan up other embers.
I’ve still got paper proofs to read, and mark with my red pen.
Then I’ll enter those corrections, and go around again.
We still plan on going camping, in another month or so,
to which I much look forward. I’ll have paper proofs in tow!
I am easily distracted by the world that used to be,
and by what I imagine is the world that we could see.
It isn’t wasting time, if or not it makes a book,
to let my imagine chime in on the way new normal should look.