In Which More Tweet-Ups Fill Me With Joy

Sonneteer's note: this looks like I finally missed a day but I assure you I did not. This sonnet was crafted long hand in my autumn red FIELD NOTES at Chicago's otherwise nifty Midway Airport, where I could not get a wi-fi signal for the life of me. Then there was no time between landing and catching the shuttle in Denver. But I don't have to convince you; I know I got the thing done at the proper time today (and it's still today until I go to bed) and that's what matters. Thank you.

Lost in meat-space I have most surely been.

Chicagoland bewilders me entire,

Each day delivered to another friend

To set my heart and spirit right on fire.

And through it all, my oldest pal, dear Mark

And his Nicole took such good care of me

That ne'er I noticed really just how stark

My lack of knowledge of this place must be.

Now back to Denver, quickly, must I fly,

And leave bits of my heart in keeping of

Mike Oliveri, John Rolin, Boogeur,

That A.N. Ommus, Lethe Bashar, my love

With Teia Hassey, Canter, Zchizz, oo-er,

And all the other Bhtches. I have found,

Though, that I've quite enough to go around.

BONUS SONNET: With Buzz And Gravy Of A Friday Evening

It's evening at the Casa del Blow. I

Watch Old Man Buzz, the Blowman's Therabee

Go round and round and laugh. The hours fly

As Mrs. Blow, the Gravybhtch, joins me

In drooling o'er a stove, shiny and new

Which came today (yes, we've got oven porn).

I laugh at Buzz's toy, yet wonder -- ooh!

Next month, when I embark, as I have sworn

To write my NaNoWriMo, using that

Beloved white Olympia portable

Typewriter you see pictured up there at

The top of this page, might my hands cramp up?

Some exercise for them might help ramp up.