The information was up to the minute.
The information was unreliable.
The information made us ravenous,
For more information.
The information had no effect
On sunlight scattered like shards
Of happiness across the rippled river.
December dawn cloud
My puffy rose friend
I’m glad I was up to see you.
A man made of grass blew by
The kitchen window while I
Angrily ate cold fish from a dish
In the sink and anticipated
The pies I had to bake.
Wondering about the import of what I had experienced—what to do?—I waited on the pier for my party clothes. I so wanted those images and feelings to signify something about my days at the farm/school/clinic.
Obsessively clicking through my list of news websites today, I read your December poem, and quickly closed my browser —
The information was up to the minute. The information was unreliable. The information made us ravenous, For more information.
The information had no effect on sunlight scattered like shards of happiness across the rippled river.