Now I understand it, but back then, I did not
It is raining outside: drenching, appalling, congratulations-asshole-you-broke-the-planet January rain. There was supposed to be snow on the ground when I woke up, but I all I got when I left the house was raw hammering damp. I came home and made hot chocolate with goat's milk. It was the only reasonable thing to do.
The mail has brought my contributor's copy of Moral Relativism Magazine #3, containing my poem "Di Vayse Pave" ("The White Peacock"). It's a brilliant issue: the theme is "How Not to Be Wrong." There are personal essays and book reviews, praises of error and contemplations of paradox, responsibility, chaos, and the legal definition of death in Judaism; there is a parable of Sedna and Oannes and beautiful chimeric art, Maya Lilja Anderson's "Aminut." There is an epilogue of quotations from Thomas Mann to John Landis. Pick up a copy! And start thinking about the next issue—the reading period for "Divorce, Marriage, and the Sacred" is now open.
Yesterday
rushthatspeaks and I found a four-dollar DVD of Werner Herzog's Invincible (2001) in the cheap used bin at Newbury Comics. There was really nothing else there worth buying. This is the sort of thing that happens to us.
The mail has brought my contributor's copy of Moral Relativism Magazine #3, containing my poem "Di Vayse Pave" ("The White Peacock"). It's a brilliant issue: the theme is "How Not to Be Wrong." There are personal essays and book reviews, praises of error and contemplations of paradox, responsibility, chaos, and the legal definition of death in Judaism; there is a parable of Sedna and Oannes and beautiful chimeric art, Maya Lilja Anderson's "Aminut." There is an epilogue of quotations from Thomas Mann to John Landis. Pick up a copy! And start thinking about the next issue—the reading period for "Divorce, Marriage, and the Sacred" is now open.
Yesterday

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That knocks the wedding at Cana into a cocked hat.
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Nine
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I rather love you.
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