The word, thups, came to me a while ago, and I first thought of thups as something to blame the quirks of my personality on. I would just think--It's my thups that did that. One of my quirks is that I take personal credit for my friends' successes. I think of them as a reason to celebrate, a reason to have an extra slice of pie, cup of tea, wine, or whatever I wish for. (At least that's what my thups would do.)
My friend, Robert Miltner's wonderful book, Hotel Utopia, has just been selected as a finalist for the Ohioana Award. So I have been eating pie and sipping cinnamon tea.
Here's an excerpt from his poem, "Greed."
Feel it, sleek as a snake's skin, slick as a tongue, hot as a loaded gun.
Remember the red crayon your hand pinched from the box and pocketed so you wouldn't have to share it with the other kids? The desire, the gluttony for color?
Greed is lean as a skeleton's shadow and will change its shape to meet your needs.
Go on, it whispers in your ear, No one is looking.
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