Since the raging seas and stormy winds parted my love and I
I dreamed that I won the right to a cameo mention as some kind of Boston-area folkloric creature in Margaret Ronald's latest novel by singing "The Lowlands of Holland" in a kulfi shop. You ordered a particular flavor, they asked you to sing for it. I had that terrible real-life blankness that seizes the brain when you know literally more songs than you count and someone says vaguely but encouragingly, having no idea of this, "I don't know, whatever you feel like." Turned out one of the other patrons knew the same version; we wound up trading off harmonies. Is there a kulfi shop anywhere in Boston?
. . . This is probably the most realist dream I've had in months.
My poem "Theseid" has been accepted by Not One of Us.
. . . This is probably the most realist dream I've had in months.
My poem "Theseid" has been accepted by Not One of Us.

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Congratulations on the poem! As always.
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It's from the version by Waterson:Carthy, which is the first one I really learned.
Congratulations on the poem! As always.
Thank you!
(Send that cinema one somewhere.)
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I do think I'm becoming rather a better poet than I had ever hoped to be. I like that.
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The reading period just closed—I didn't get anything in, either. Not One of Us?
I do think I'm becoming rather a better poet than I had ever hoped to be. I like that.
And your better is quite good.
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Do I need to prepare to deploy my tantrumface? Shit.
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No, you're right! I just missed the deadline for Science and Science Fiction. My apologies to your heart rate.
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Send! Send!
Re: Send! Send!
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Ah me! I have been too long a teacher, and my heart is caulked with chalk.
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Take it up with the folk tradition!