To see a perfect forest through so many splintered trees
Today I do not have a migraine. And I started a new poem, which is already an improvement. (I wish I had written Peter Spagnuolo's "Interpol 22019-1.7: The Head of the Hatra Apollo," but that can't be helped and I'm glad someone did.) And tonight is the first installment of TCM's Hammer Horror Fridays, of which I am planning to watch as many as contain Peter Cushing my brain can stand. Happy October. Wish me luck.

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Sad not to see Horror Express on the TCM list. It's so terribly awesome, but not wholly Hammer so I guess that makes sense. I get such a giggle out of Cushing and Lee coming together. "We're not monsters, we're British!"