The smell of the sea took on ominous implications
My poems "Being Providence," "Settling Accounts," and "Trying for It," are now online at The Revelator's Special We ❤ Lovecraft Issue. These are, respectively, the poem I wrote for H.P. Lovecraft after the Brattle's film festival in August, the poem I wrote for
asakiyume on the spring full moon of Nisan, and the poem I wrote for Thomas Andrews on the centenary of the Titanic, and I am exceptionally pleased to be able to announce their appearance in this magazine. All three are ghost poems. I think they are some of my best. I am seeing the year out with exorcisms.
I dreamed a title: Of Mercury and Other Musics. What kind of book it belonged to, unfortunately, I didn't remember when I woke. I'll just have to make one up.
I dreamed a title: Of Mercury and Other Musics. What kind of book it belonged to, unfortunately, I didn't remember when I woke. I'll just have to make one up.

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That's writing, I think; what is clung to in avoidance of drowning. Or love. Or, perhaps, both.
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These look amazing. I love the accompanying picture, BTW.
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What kind of book it belonged to, unfortunately, I didn't remember when I woke. I'll just have to make one up.
I'm sorry for the first, but I would wish to see what you might make up for it.
I dreamt last night of shelves of books and stacks of CDs I didn't recognise. I kissed a girl named Zenia Kabuki, assuming I'm rightly reading what I wrote on waking, which name I found out from seeing it written on her markerboard. We'd been assigned as roommates at my undergraduate alma mater, I think with others as well. I couldn't decide if she kissed me because she was breaking up with her boyfriend or if they had an open relationship. I realised towards the end of the dream that the reason I didn't know what classes I was taking was that my alma mater doesn't have a graduate school.
I woke before I worked out whether I was actually on the faculty. If I was, I hope somebody told me what classes I was teaching before things got too badly off schedule.
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Thank you!
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Thank you. That was an unexpected poem, except in some ways I think I had been writing it at the back of my head for years.
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Thank you. I think I am going to have to put together a chapbook of ghosts: I have enough of them. I just don't know if I've gotten to all the ones I need.
I kissed a girl named Zenia Kabuki, assuming I'm rightly reading what I wrote on waking
That's like manga by Dorothy Parker.
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Thank you! It was adapted from the photo
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Love and writing are both good driftwood.
Thank you.
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You're welcome. I think that chapbook would be a lovely thing.
That's like manga by Dorothy Parker.
Excellent way of putting it. I like how you think.
There's a Xenia in Ohio--it's about a hundred miles southwest of my alma mater. I'm not sure if that was part of the inspiration or not. I also found myself wondering, I think even as I was dreaming, if Zenia was somehow short for Zenobia.
I seem to have a page of notes from that dream. I should probably try to write them up.
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Whenever you find the text to your dream-book, I'll gladly read it.
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Thank you. Photo credit to Rob Noyes for the original and Eric Schaller for the steamboat.
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I need to get to the beach...