Who can turn back skies and begin again?
My poem "Migration" has been accepted by Lone Star Stories. It was the next-to-last poem to be written in New Haven, an experiment which I am still fond of. I suppose it's only suitable it should find a home after I've come here.
Rush tickets and the creek don't rise, in a little over twelve hours
shmeislin and other miscreants and I will be at the Boston Lyric Opera for their matinée of Les contes d'Hoffmann, one of my favorite operas I have never (except as translated by Powell and Pressburger) seen.
shmeislin is in fact the person responsible for introducing me to it, about six months after I'd discovered the historical E.T.A. Hoffmann. All my favorite authors should be so lucky as to have weird operas written about them.
Coconuts: the geodes of cuisine. I am sure there are more gracious ways of eating one than with a chisel and a screwdriver, but are they anywhere near as fun?
Rush tickets and the creek don't rise, in a little over twelve hours
Coconuts: the geodes of cuisine. I am sure there are more gracious ways of eating one than with a chisel and a screwdriver, but are they anywhere near as fun?

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Tales of Hoffmann is the only opera I've listened to in its entirety (my cultural failings, let me show them to you), and I love it.
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I hope the creeks don't rise, and that you've indeed got to the opera. And that you've enjoyed it very much.
Coconuts: the geodes of cuisine.
I like this line. And I reckon you're right. Is it a cold chisel you use?
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I don't know if you've read any Robertson Davies, but his The Lyre of Orpheus is centred around the reconstruction and staging of an incomplete Hoffmann opera. With occasional commentary by the Ghost of Hoffmann. Which is not what it's mostly about, but.
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Enjoy!
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Congrats on Lone Star. They've quickly become one of my favorite online magazines (and they get bonus points for being the one that seems to have best figured out how to use RSS feeds).