Sometimes I think I have no imagination at all. I'm just a _recorder_ of one thing and another, a witness... like, I need to write down how "the retina accounts for 40% of all nerve fibers connected to the brain--but only one-millionth of a person's total body weight. Our eyes register 36,000 visual messages each hour... and can perceive about 150 different colors." Information overload? Sure... I jot that down and am open to more... diVoga notebook April 2008 entry, "Beagle who won Westminster Dog Show is praised by at least one judge for having 'the most beautiful shoulders...' another judge observed, 'Look at that face, you melt right down... a sweet face... I give that dog a 10!" And then, April 2008 (still), I start a poem about Spam, "I am a nice girl--that would like to chat with you." I think of titling the poem, "I am a nice girl that would like to chat with you." She goes on to say, "If you would like to see some of my pictures..." "Man be lonely no more..." that's good! "Thank goodness he had a big wang." I think of using that for the refrain. "debt free in 3 years..." sounds too good to be true. If you want to learn more about the American Dream, seems to me, all you need to do is read Spam.