I hope that someone gets my message in a bottle

My poem "Letters for Nereis" is now online at Goblin Fruit, along with some beautiful temptations—an anthology of Persephones, girls with fish for hair, liminal spaces and soul cages and most of all kythiaranos. Thanks to papersky for correcting the rhythm of the last line. And look, it's sunlit outside!

And I'll be kissing you in the boneyard

time_shark has already reviewed the latest Goblin Fruit. I suspect deviltry at work.

Meanwhile, I got home from singing and running erands to discover, in among the snail-mail, my contributor's copy of Not One of Us #41, whose table of contents is a thing of great beauty. Stories by Patricia Russo and Erik Amundsen, poems by Gemma Files, Francesca Forrest, Elizabeth Bear, David Kopaska-Merkel and Kendall Evans, and that doesn't include the other half of the magazine. This issue's theme is morbidity and mortality, so those of you who are subscribers may consider it your printed Tenebrae. Those of you who are not subscribers, why not? My poems "Anon" and "Cryptogamy" may also be found therein.

In short, I am calling this week a success. Monday, I spent half the day at the Boston Museum of Science, acquired a DVD of Danton (1983, Andrzej Wajda) with a gift certificate Eric gave me for St. Swithin's Day, and found out my name now shows up in Dutch astronomical journals. Tuesday, I cooked mussels with coconut milk and lemon grass; Wednesday, I distracted Eric from Readercon and said hello to Eddy, who is visiting from Santa Cruz. Thursday, nineweaving and I made a much-delayed pilgrimage to Burdick's and then spent the afternoon at the Museum of Fine Arts with Venetian poesie and eighteenth-century sketches and words like palissander and mazarine. And today, see above, and in the evening I will see eredien. I still haven't written about Coriolanus. Oh, well. My uncle Thomas arrives later tonight.

This whole not sucking out loud thing, I could get used to it.