Happiness is a duck in the oven and a glaze of quinces and cider simmering on the stove. In one of its forms, anyway. Another is new books—
papersky's Ha'penny,
desperance's Shelter, Ben Parzybok's Couch, Growing Back: Poems 1972—1992 by Rika Lesser. Yet another is
lesser_celery, in person, talking about Tom Stoppard and beef stock and dirty bombs. Music I haven't heard yet. An enameled plaque of squid. My brother, dozing. TCM appears to be playing film noir for Christmas, of which I totally approve. Tomorrow, the Museum of Science; first, I must attend to the duck.
Links
Page Summary
Active Entries
- 1: And me? Well, I'm just the narrator
- 2: This is what I get for being civilized
- 3: I'd marry her this minute if she only would agree
- 4: Open up your mouth, but the melody is broken
- 5: Is your heart hiding from your fire?
- 6: Everybody knows the world's gone wrong
- 7: The dusty light, the final hour
- 8: Reading your mind is like foreign TV
- 9: When you turn a solemn promise to a blatant lie
Style Credit
- Style: Classic for Refried Tablet by and
Expand Cut Tags
No cut tags