The leopard slugs are out tonight in Somerville. It seems to me that they are slightly out of season, but I was so happy to see them glimmering in the streetlight as I walked around the block for a break between bouts of catch-up work, I don't want to take it as a sign of global warming or further derangement of the biosphere. The half-moon above the trees was the warm color of old ivory. Notes toward a con report from Readercon tomorrow. Tonight, sleep.
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- 1: Here we are in the summer rain again
- 2: Now I'm walking round the city just waiting to come to
- 3: You're on, music master
- 4: Be my hand on the oar to row to eternity
- 5: To cormorant to samphire to plover
- 6: I'm the left hand ticking on the timeless clock
- 7: Hope and anger in the ink and on the streets
- 8: Rewriting old excuses, delete the kisses at the end
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