That's Peter Lorre, not Sydney Greenstreet

We have made landfall in New York! Currently we are reposing on a guest bed in the classiest crash space I have encountered in decades: our host is Nancy Hightower, subletting the apartment from David Edison, and it is three floors of light and windows and bookcases and city views and there's a tiny little rooftop balcony at the foot of this bed with some very hardy plants in it, blowing in the brisk March wind. The reading at 2A starts at eight o'clock tonight. (Drinks and hanging out start at seven.) We may just lie here until then. I am personally rather impressed by the fact that I got up at five-thirty in the morning. I ate some rice cakes with lingonberry jam while watching the sky lighten through shades of blue and Venus the morning star fade. I don't remember much of the train except that we made it: I went out like a drugged light even before Back Bay, slept with my head on Rob's shoulder until he got up around Old Saybrook and I fell over onto his seat. I slept through New Haven. Woke around New Rochelle. We got off the train and went directly to Peanut Butter & Co., where I confirmed that chocolate malted rice milk is the drink I like best with a fancy peanut butter sandwich. And then we came here. Rob is off his crutches. It is so nice to walk everywhere again.

1. My poem "Facilior" has been accepted by inkscrawl. It takes its title from the Aeneid: facilis descensus Averno, the descent to Avernus is easy. Easier is facilior. I don't think it's a ghost poem.

2. I am one of the disembodied voices on the Strange Horizons podcast this week, reading Gemma Files' "Litany of the Family Bean." Because I do not own any recording equipment myself, the poem was recorded by the good graces of derspatchel's colleague Michael McAfee who found us space in Burlington. Getting out there was a ridiculous transportation snafu, but it resulted in viable audio and handful_ofdust tells me she likes it, so it was worth all the trouble.

3. A pigeon just flew past our window; this is awesome.

P.S. The Jazz Butcher, "Peter Lorre."