I now have one regular patron who sends a monthly contribution to keep this poet alive. Yes, per usual, I'm a poor poet...and for some reason I'm a poor poet in its many meanings...but someone like my patron loves my work. If you become a sustaining patron I can guarantee you'll see writing from me on a regular basis. I do edit my mad. But I don't always hit it out of the park. At least my patrons have a chance to select from all my work...and they become the editors rather than the small-minded who often edit magazines and journals. Poet James Wright,one of his last books, held by two editors for the longest time that his wife Anne took to another publisher who snapped it up and it became a huge success. Now I don't have people like Robert Bly, Don Hall, or their equals I can send my poems to for a review before I put them on the internet or send to any publisher. I believe in opening up my "horde" for the world to critique or love. And it's expensive to send out my work, getting only rejection, so it's money I don't have for food, or the electric bill. Please send what you can via my email: via Paypal. I thank those who support me one way or another.


Thank you to those who have contributed via Paypal to support my writing. My account at Paypal is the same as my email: rikwrybac(at)

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Sunday, August 22, 2010

Out of Order: the day before her 92nd birthday

Today she clapped for television shows
and counted leaves on trees
She thought she was in a hotel
and I'm always the servant
The glass is too close to the edge
The soup is cold
She takes off the alarm
I make breakfast
buttered toast, tea, cantaloupe pieces
a fully-cooked, single egg omelet
Toasted homemade bread and homemade chicken rice soup
for dinner
I washed towels and handkerchiefs
I re-dryed a previous load not quite dry
I washed dishes twice in the dish washer
I kept the kitchen clean
We're running out of milk
I vacuumed up dead flies and cobwebs
in the garage and moved wood around
I thought about installing the air conditioner
in the garage window
I'm tired
I dreamed of winning the lottery
I bought a house for my daughter
with my imaginary wealth
I gave her the two pills in the morning
I gave her the four pills at bedtime
I changed her paper underwear four times
I went to get the mail
There was no mail
It's her birthday tomorrow
I made myself a three egg omelet and three pieces of toast
for breakfast
I made a pot of coffee for me
I'm running out of coffee filters
I put sugar in my coffee
I put sweetener in her tea
I sat and watched her take her pills
at breakfast and at bedtime
I instructed her on how to wipe herself
We watched Rodgers and Hammerstein's South Pacific
on public television recorded from last night
I change channels for her to find something
that doesn't over excite her
We listened to Minnesota Public Radio on the Internet
I opened my email many times today during commercial breaks
I wrote a letter to a friend about something I'd written
I stayed in the jeep a little longer after
coming back from an empty mail box
I didn't back out of the driveway when the neighbor
was coming back from getting the mail in his car
I kept the air conditioning running all day in the house
I went to bathroom five times today
I took a short nap on the sofa
She can't control the chair so I pressed the buttons for her
She got up three times after midnight
She set off the alarm three times
I'm tired
It's the last hour and I'm typing
I'm listening to MPR
It's a cello piece
The dishwasher is winding down
It's 62 degrees outside
My left leg is on the sofa
My right foot hurts and is on the floor
I'm using a cake keeper in which to save the bread
We have 12 dollars until the end of the month
I have lottery tickets for Saturday night
I took handkerchiefs to her in her bedroom
before I turned out the lights
I turned on and off the attic fan to cool the house
I close windows in the morning and open them at night
I yawned
I turned off the computer
I went to sleep on the sofa in the living room

Copyright © 2010 by Barry G. Wick
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