Sometimes in Times Like These

Old Water Rat Publishing

Stephen Page

Last night I sipped a half bottle of 12-year-old Scotch into my veins while rewatching Saving Private Ryan and three episodes of the original Star Trek series on Interflix. I slept very well after that. This morning I wrote a poem while sipping coffee, then scrambled up some eggs in butter, topped them with fresh diced tomatoes, and toasted the bread Teresa loves. I roasted a couple of steaks for Amigo, and sipped yerba mate while sunning my face and hands on the patio deck (I love the late winter sun). Now I am watching an old Western on cable, and occasionally gazing out at the Atlantic-blue sea, the fishing boats, the swallows dancing in swoops. Just as I was about to turn on the news, I thought better of it. I am so tired of news about that sociopathic, anti-mask-wearing, self-serving tyrant. I almost open my social…

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