A War Is Made by the Rich but the Poor Always Fight It

            I spent most of Wednesday writing about Tuesday.

            Since that night I’ve had the itchy eyed, raw throated feeling that a cold was coming on but I forgot about it for most of the day and by bedtime it still hadn’t gone beyond that threshold feeling.

            I watched an interesting episode of Leave It To Beaver in which Beaver’s class was discussing what their parents did during the war. Since Judy was bragging that her father had been a hero and a pilot, Beaver bragged that his father had been a hero too. But it turned out that Ward had been an army engineer who helped build bases. Beaver didn’t get that it’s the people with no education that are told to risk their lives in combat.

            On Thursday I still felt like I was just on the verge of getting a cold, but since it was two days from when I first started feeling that way I don’t think it’s a cold.

            I spent a lot of time working on the second draft of an autobiographical poem in the style of A. M. Klein as part of my final project for Canadian Poetry. The first version had a lot of disparate childhood memories jumbled together in verses, but I decided that it would be better to use each verse to explore the details of a different memory. It kind of tuckered me out though to rack my brain to expand on some recollections and to follow a complex rhyming pattern as well.