Who are you reading? you ask, sharing your list of 10 favorite poets.
Ah, that I could sit in the sun today, devour poetry til dusk, ripe apricots on the side.
Even make progress on The Correspondent before book club next week.

Instead, I worked my way through
        – Sheets of eyeglass prescriptions: which one is needed to replace the sunglasses
           that broke?         
       –  Twelve back and forth texts for plans with an out-of-town visitor         
       –  Online information regarding late-stage Parkinsons; had to shake my head at AI’s                   solicitous first person voice “We’ve covered several topics here.  Is there anything 
          else I can help you with?” 
       – A grocery list, until I decided not to bother         
       – Instructions for completing Generali Trip Interruption Reimbursement paperwork
         after contracting the flu in Houston         
      – Altima manual while waiting at the optician:  how turn off the new buzzer that                        sounds when car touches a lane marker?  (failed)         
      – And for the third time, instructions for syncing my phone and computer (also failed)  

But I have to tell you, whenever I have a few minutes, Jose Enrique Medina’s chapbook, Haunt Me, flies back into my hands        

          Time passes,     
          And my binder grows, thick with ghosts       

          But, enough about me.    
          Go on.  Show me your collection.   
          Don’t be shy.