shaken & stirred

welcome to my martini glass


happy friday

Because I have nothing else to post, two of my favorite poems. (You've seen at least one of these here before, and maybe both of them.)

Training for the Apocalypse

Consider the will to love
as the decision to survive.
That's how the agents of Eros operate.
They sneak into your dreams
just before the world ends.

- Gloria Frym

(And apologies for the lack of correct formatting on the next one -- just imagine that every second line is indented a bit. Or drop me a line and tell me how to do that.)


She is neither pink nor pale,
And she never will be all mine;
She learned her hands in a fairy-tale,
And her mouth on a valentine.

She has more hair than she needs;
In the sun `tis a woe to me!
And her voice is a string of coloured beads,
Or steps leading into the sea.

She loves me all that she can,
And her ways to my ways resign;
But she was not made for any man,
And she never will be all mine.

- Edna St. Vincent Millay

And I should mention that Mr. Rowe updated UnCommonwealth today and he's got good and big life news over there.

Have a good weekend.


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