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Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Retiring to my jeweled dragon-cave

Photo:  The Throne of Psyche (Mercer University Press, 2011.
 My poems are hanging out with a Hanoi water puppet dragon
 and a Deborah Guertze print.)
Having been delayed by various unexpected events, I have a dire need to retreat from the field today and read and burnish the final manuscript of A Death at the White Camellia Orphanage until my eyeballs are pickled! In the meantime, meet me in another post or between the covers of a book.


  1. Lovely display. Hope your eyeballs are faring well.

  2. Yes, they are. Not pickled enough yet. Too much going on...

  3. 'Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers.'

    Too much pepper in unexpected flavor bursts?

  4. Nothing pickled here as yet...

    Eyeballs are not nearly ready for the Piper. But that would be... pickled PEEPERS!



Alas, I must once again remind large numbers of Chinese salesmen and other worldwide peddlers that if they fall into the Gulf of Spam, they will be eaten by roaming Balrogs. The rest of you, lovers of grace, poetry, and horses (nod to Yeats--you do not have to be fond of horses), feel free to leave fascinating missives and curious arguments.