I just got back a rather wonderful trip to Louisiana about a week ago. Things are so different there. I loved it. I'd move there if I could. And I'm writing poetry exclusively now. Not really by choice but at least I'm writing. And some people like it. I have a style. My life is in shambles but who's isn't? I'm trying, you know? Anyway, no matter what I try I'm still depressed about my mom but that's never going to change. My dad is sicker than he should be. I won't write a lot on that. Just that I see him wilting and I remember all too clearly the former glory that was my father.