December 2013


Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
     And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
     And auld lang syne! (more…)

1815: Paris, Navigators of Seas and Libraries.

Julien Mellet, writer and traveler, relates his adventures in South America to the European public. Among other things he describes a very lively and lascivious dance much done in Quillota, in Chile, and which was brought by the blacks from Guinea. (more…)

How heavy do I journey on the way,
When what I seek, my weary travel’s end,
Doth teach that case and that repose to say,
“Thus far the miles are measured from thy friend!”
The beast that bears me, tired with my woe,
Plods dully on, to bear that weight in me,
As if by some instinct the wretch did know
His rider loved not speed being made from thee.
The bloody spur cannot provoke him on
That sometimes anger thrusts into his hide,
Which heavily he answers with a groan,
More sharp to me than spurring to his side;
For that same groan doth put this in my mind:
My grief lies onward and my joy behind.

Cold and final, the imagination
shuts down its fabled summer house:
blue views are boarded up; our sweet vacation
dwindles in the hour-glass. (more…)

If I could raise this City into the heavens,
caress it like a polished calabash maracca,
shake it like a shoebox to jar the lucid gunmen
and winged cockroaches into the sunlight,
if I could take it in my hands and carry it,

would I?

All the leaves are brown
And the sky is grey
I went for a walk
On a winter’s day
I’d be safe and warm
If I was in L.A.
California dreamin’
On such a winter’s day.

The poet is a fisherman … of fish capable of staying alive after being hauled out.