On the Ending of Winter

The days have grown longer, The sun rises high
The cold days make way for the warm;
The bees and the birdies cavort in the sky
Like frat boys with liquor and porn;
The snow is a mem’ry to which I am lost,
The chill of the season has passed;
It’s ninety degrees in this blast-furnace breeze
Looks like winter is shot in the ass.

(first published on April 3, 2006)


Still nothing yet

I’ve managed to fish my old website out of cryonic storage, but I still have to fix a number of the links. And two or three pieces will be removed in the interest of sparing me public shame. Fact is, it’s all a mixed bag, and I may just remove all of it once I have some of the better stuff properly HTML-ized.


Installation and Provenance

To move wild laughter in the throat of death?
It cannot be; it is impossible ...
- Love's Labour's Lost (Berowne at V, ii)