Today is one of those days that was set up wrong. I don’t know why or how but it is a very strange day.
For my next poem, I want to sink boxes into concrete in sidewalks, so that the boxes will still open with some effort, and there will be interesting poetic things inside like in geocaches. People will stop walking and bend down to see what is in the box. It will take some struggle before the box is opened. They will be small boxes that can be inserted into wet concrete sidewalks without notice.
It’s my grandmother’s birthday.