Maybe it was that other song you sang

[sovay]

The afternoon's mail just brought me Not One of Us #46, containing my poems "Sheydim-tants" and "Cemetery Theater." It's a gigantic issue. There's a new murder ballad by Erik Amundsen and the heart of a beast by Patricia Russo, ghost-eating by Jeannelle Ferreira and an old tale by Rose Lemberg in new jewelry, true things about tourism and strange things about archaeology, monstrous children, memories, other things. I have to hold off on reading it for a little; my boring job. No matter. It's more of today.

Comments

[strange-selkie.livejournal.com]

Ooooh. I wonder if I'll have mine tomorrow. (You have the vague advantage of proximity.)

[sovay]

I wonder if I'll have mine tomorrow.

It would make a nice present for the new year.

I still really like your poem.

(You have the vague advantage of proximity.)

I've abandoned any attempt to figure out the timing of the postal service—a letter I put in the mail for greygirlbeast on Thursday doesn't seem to have arrived yet, while a birthday book for rushthatspeaks did Lexington to Reston in three days. That said, I don't want to see it abolished in favor of FedEx and further corporations. I know the U.S. is in the habit of unbelievably stupid ideas lately, but seriously, people, draw the line somewhere.

[strange-selkie.livejournal.com]

"The postal service: always a surprise!"

I need to get back in the habit of sending vague, nattery letters with margin drawings. It helps work go by.

[sovay]

I need to get back in the habit of sending vague, nattery letters with margin drawings. It helps work go by.

I enjoyed those.