( via / via )

"How should an old man live his days if not in dreaming of his well-spent past? In that, at all events, there is no agitating warmth, only pale winter sunshine. The shell can withstand the gentle beating of the dynamos of memory. The present he should distrust; the future shun."

“But why do I talk of rascality? folly, folly is the scourge of life! Give me a scoundrel (so he be a sensible one), and I will put him in my heart of hearts; but a fool is more mischievous than famine, pestilence, and war.” –Peregrine Pickle

Doing the Great Loop on a jet ski.

Room Full of Light

Room full of light, emptying.
Me here, listening to a whalesong snatch
over the traffic, and then more music.

I could fall asleep by this window
wondering about the whales
and how they came to be on my radio just now.

Asleep in the sunlight–to wake in darkness.
It wouldn’t be hard at all.
A strange destiny like the recorded voice

of one sad whale stolen and smuggled into the city,
where it became, with a light enough room,
one of many recognitions.

(from Raps Clack Calcspar, 1984)

"Despite the name, sextrance has nothing to do with sex or sexuality."