Worms

Spring arrives with stupid worms crawling nobly into sunlight. Everything is bound to surface, I guess. Here's a poem about it. This is the official second edit. The first attempt was lost. I'll remove it in two days.

I went into the poem with the images of dried worms but now they elude me. I only see haunting figures. Does this call for a new title? I hope not.

Recently, I've started having problems with my endings. I like them but my execution isn't even near perfect shitty. They lack the kick in the groin.

WordPress is making me happy. It allows me to see how much traffic my site receives. I average about four a day. I'm sure at least two of them aren't mine. All I need to do now is copy the links from here to there.



Side note: H has already shaved. The hell? It's been only two weeks. We need to make him eat a worm or something. C tells me that you need to drink vodka when eating worms. It disinfects the bacteria.