Wash the questions off my hands

My poem "The Drowning of the Doves" has been accepted by The Cascadia Subduction Zone. I owe my discovery of the Doves type to sairaali; cucumberseed also encouraged me to write a poem based on the history with all its strange river-echoes, since apparently neither U.A. Fanthorpe nor Iain Sinclair had gotten around to it. Since then, of course, not only has the legendary typeface been digitally revived, but some of the actual long-drowned lead type has been recovered from the Thames. The poem does not encompass that development. I'm still pretty happy about it.

Today was hectic, but really nice: I spent the day with gaudior and rushthatspeaks, respectively while mailing an infinite number of Sassafrass Kickstarter rewards at the post office and making a run to Market Basket and the adjoining Indian grocery and then we all ate dinner and watched the first episode of the new season of Hannibal, which was great. The show has really stepped up its impressionism. I have no idea where it's headed.

I must sleep. I want to write about several things, but later.