In Which I Enjoy My Flash In The Poetry Pan

(Click to SONNETSIZE image)

I know that this is really just a fluke

Of Amazon and of my awesome friends

Who jumped today to go and buy my book

(It's there now, just like Smashwords). This portends

Not one thing for the future, but today

My sonnets were on this bestseller list!

My name was ranked with Whitman, Poe, hooray!

I feel as though the Sonnet Fairy kissed

My forehead. Thank you all. This gives to me

More motivation, now, to finish work

On getting out that print edition. Whee!

Next week just watch me go all-out berserk

To get it done. Now off to have a drink

With local friends. I've earned that, don't you think?

In Which An Ebook Is Published!

At long last, I am pleased to offer here

(At SmashWords) and on Kindle just as soon

As Amazon does what it has to -- dear,

Oh dear, watch out, your sonneteer my swoon! --

An ebook of these sonnets. Later on,

In hot July, I'll make available

A print edition you may feast upon

And hold in your two hands -- I wouldn't pull

Your leg on this! But if you just can't wait,

And have an e-device on which to read

Some silly poetry by your pal, Kate,

You needn't! And the cost is low indeed.

And dig the art, by M.R. Neno, who

Did quite a job, I think! How about you?

Empty Nest

The ice that's in the trays sits undisturbed.
No random power tool noise fills the air.
My collie's 'thusiam 's somewhat curbed;
Her fav'rite human (my dad) isn't there
When she comes back indoors from her patrol.
The kitchen table's empty and quite clean
(Apart, that is, from artichokes mom left --
By accident or charity? I mean,
They're artichokes, of which she's oft bereft
In Saratoga!); the spare room is, too.
Just when I'm used to sharing, I'm alone
Again. Another visit now is through,
My mom and dad are now safe back at home.
I have, of course, a great big load of stuff
To tackle in their absence, sure enough.

Cruisin'

It's summer; school is out, the kids are free,
And they go screeching by in all their cars
As though it were a Friday night. When we
Were that age we were just the same. The stars
Glowed high above us, burning, dying, while
We paid them hardly any mind, except
When we were waiting, sometimes with a smile,
Sometimes with bitterness, for those who kept
On telling us "just one sec." Being out
At night time was so new, so glamorous,
E'en if it just involved a car, a route
That took us back and forth, some beer, some fuss
O'er what to blast through speakers. Life is short,
Especially when you're seventeen. Cavort!

In Which We Watch This Space For Details

Phil Rossi (and some others), long ago,
On learning of this foolish project which
I'd undertaken, said to me, "You know,
This has to be a book." I've had the itch
To make one of them ever since, and soon
Such shall be ready to be crassly bought
At all the normal outlets. From the Moon
To deep beneath the soil, to where one ought
To don some gloves and goggles, there's no place
My sonnetizing has not gone, and when
My format-angel and my artist grace
Me with the final touches, darlings, then
I'll put a sonnet ebook up for sale,
And then a dead-tree version, without fail!