Savanna D'Amato, Abby Norman is bad to the bone.
Thomas R. Barton, JD

Savanna D'Amato, My beautiful Octopus of Love, I was lying in bed nearly an hour ago and said you gotta write that incendiary poet and ask her to send psychic tentacles to protect you from another night of terrifying and wrenching nightmares. I hope you are making progress on your book version of some of our poetic exchanges. I had to get up and send this even though I am sure you are asleep. I will try my best to write tomorrow or very soon and I hope I can escape the clutches of my nightmares. They are the most vivid and unsettling of my 55 plus years on this planet. The last two mornings I missed your banter and loving incendiary ways. I am weakened but not “flat on the boxing mat.” It is almost midnight here in Springfield Missouri and have a good day at work. I will be in touch tomorrow or the day after for sure. I hope you see a red Ducati 1299 Panigale today in Brooklyn. My devil dog soul will be running stride for stride with it. I am your poet as you are mine. your devil dog, Thomas. Vive la Octopus of Love. Au revoir, a demain.

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