Coughing the dark to bits means rolling out of bed and having time to watch the sun leak into the late-winter, early-spring sky. A wan sunrise over Sleeping Lion (or whatever it's called. Lying Lion? Meatloaf-position Lion?) Kingfisher tower just an admonitory finger from the shallows of the lake. Chill northern birds attempting with faint cries to rooster the sun into its proper place. Everywhere, a summer craving. The whole world bent on a desire for sun's bright roistering.
New online:
Last night: "The Fugitive Light" at qarrtsiluni
In the past week: "Sakura" at International Arts Movement's The Curator
Also: chapter one of A Death at the White Camellia Orphanage at Scribd
Wednesday, April 04, 2012
2 comments:
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.
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Meatloaf position sounds like a parodic yoga position.
ReplyDeleteCould be. Just tuck your paws and feet under, and wrap any tail close around your body.
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