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    "Poem ending with a line by Davidson"

The lowering welkin has to teach
office of sudden shelter found;
a dream of rescue by snowy moonlight,
the meltingness of such.

Nor shall missiles wing us hence:
we plant among those skyey fields
words of despair, whispered long
for still night's starry scroll unfurled.


What Shamu taught me.


The Etched City.


I was doing a counter shift when i recognized one of the albums a kid was buying as The Magician's Birthday. (I used to have this on an 8-track!) Later, searching YouTube, i found out that they're still together. A group that had its moments of semi-sublimity, i would say now, without ceasing to be Bad Prog Rock in all the familiar ways. Still, gotta love that mythology... The emotions of adolescence were never so gaudy, as when hung on objective correlatives of Tolkienesque kinkiness. And some Moog.




"The ruins of the unsustainable are the 21st century's frontier."


A Million Penguins. (I miss out on everything.)