1. Fold the poem in half. Put it in your underwear drawer. Not in your drawers; in a drawer. Close the drawer. Go for a walk. Choose someplace ugly, filled with sorrow. Extra points for a locale that includes profuse multi-sensory information (ripe, overflowing Dumpsters, putrid crab apples piled on a lawn). While on the walk, feel sorry for yourself until you become distracted by the above. Upon returning home, wash your hands, then finish the poem.
Almost overnight I had so many friends I'd never met.
(The word, friend, must have been redefined while I was blogging.)
When I check in on Facebook, I see all kinds of posts from so many new friends. I've never had so many friends in my life!
And some are friends I actually know! It's so exciting when I see a post from someone whose name I recognize.
What confuses me, though, are all the games. Or quizes. Or what are they? And who has time?