Last weekend I went to Phoenix, and spent two nights at the home of Marty K, a lifelong friend of mine. I did not sleep well there, for many reasons, not the least of which was the squalid condition of his abode. Not that I didn’t have plenty of squalor in my unattached days to rival his; it’s just that living with a “neatnik” has given me a taste for fresh unclutter.

I am grateful for Marty’s hospitality (not to mention Vic’s, the night Marty kicked me out–long story), but SO glad to be home.

Words:

Horrors appear but you say Golly G
O what a squalor–a roach knows Kung Fu
Unguents with spillage–a sprawl on a spree
Stoic, you sack out, just paying your dues
Exit–survival-sense gets a BIG boost