April 08, 2004
It's National Poetry Month
This morning as I was stopped at a usual stop light where panhandlers patrol, a man held this sign:
Visions of Cheeseburger
Dance in my head
That was definitely worth my dollar. Actually I think he should change his sign everyday to something adorable like this ---then people would pay him for being a writer.
It was suggested to Dakota that she compose a new sign everyday and stand there on the traffic island with a cup -- I could quit my day job, and people would pay me for being a writer. Truth be known, my planar flexed forefeet couldn't take it. Well, maybe just rush hour.
Photo note: You may wonder, since this was a real life experience that was photo worthy, why there is no accompanying picture. I took too much time getting the dollar out of my purse, and then the light changed before I could shoot. Instead, I offer a shot of someone who seems to have been carried away with more than just visions of cheeseburgers. He is one of a collection of cookie jars owned by a frequent contributer to this blog who will remain nameless.
Note: If you have cookies jars for sale, I will gladly disclose his or her identity to you privately.