Where do writers get their plots?
Today, at Ralph’s supermarket,
Standing at the cashier’s
Queue,
I heard her greet the woman
Just ahead of me.
“I saw your husband yesterday,
He bought some lovely flowers.”
“Flowers?” Frowning,
Snarling,
“What flowers?”
And there it was—
The opening scene:
A four star murder mystery—
Tortured complex histories:
Betrayal, sex, rage—
Deadly retribution,
And, of course, flowers.
Three Golden Globes!
Best Original Screenplay!
It didn’t happen quite like that.
The woman, grinning, said,
“A beautiful bouquet,
He’s such a dear, my Ted.”
Her mundane words too late—
I had my plot!
(9/1/09)