As my favourite dead rock star superhero would say, 'stupidity tries'. Today, looking through my iTunes dungeon, I discovered that I took out a digital subscription to Poetry Magazine(Editor Don Share featured Squandermaniaing) in April. Something must have happened in April because I have not downloaded any of the five issues since then. I have five sissues of the greatest poetry magazine in the world to read, I must have meant it as a gift from the past life, a bereavement pick-me-up for the dark days of autumn, or I'm just so stupid I completely forgot. I found this out at the job centre, where I smiled, in the job centre. I am now circling the poems in a Figure 8 like a leopard, like a poet waiting for a five month delayed orgasm. Like it's all going to make it alright.