Devoured several beautiful poems
penned by talented friends I’ve never met.
Then, worked on a couple of my own,
a weird deep-dive into the dangers of monkey adoption,
and this one you’re reading now —
sure, some might quibble
over calling these “poems,” and hey,
who am I to argue.
Braved two – watch out! – cups of chamomile tea
settled into the chair
next to the turntable,
spinning Kind of Blue for the millionth time,
before turning in
with Andy Weir’s latest adventure,
following a lone astronaut’s galaxy-spanning quest
until nearly the stroke of midnight.
Yeah, I still know how to party.
The Truth About Tigers 
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