this week i

forgo unadulterated h²o.  i assumed clear liquid carbonated water, nope: inca kola.  what's a hug if not a full-bodied handshake?  into red lentils rn


pronounce this kwa-station, i also enjoy homemade crab pretzels. then a minor seventh without lifting the pencil. it takes four fingers to hand-tango

saw corvid drop walnut from height, swoop, abscond with half, wait for me to inspect & photograph & move away, retrieve other half.  at the art fair



note tim scott & rubio senators, also n. dakota's burgum governor, but fl's ✌️-term gov. then sen. since 2019 rick scott only a deep-pocketed investor

i carnival-tossed snowball-tasseled red cap
i free-soloed marble up honest abe's lap
and before the park rangers could wrestle me down
conveyed year's end wish list: don't vote in the clown

drew the siege of tenochtitlan.  egyptian v mesoamerican q: at what level of precision does trapezium become pyramid?  then it's all greek to me.  zeus's alarm clock: poseidon hits him with bucket of water, when he comes to, chronos 🪐 warns, "out of bed now or in my belly with your siblings"



assume they spelled edith's surname incorrectly

re-read omar khayyam's rubiyat with 8 plates in colour and decorations by otway mccannell.  a party of fanatics who long murmured in obscurity // prosody, sometimes all rhyming, but oftener..the third line suspending the cadence by which the last atones with the former two.  something as in the greek alcaic, where the third line seems to lift and suspend the wave that falls over in the last // saturn, lord of the seventh heaven

with me along some strip of herbage strown
that just divides the desert from the sown,
where name of slave and sultan scarce is known,
and pity sultan mahmud on his thrown
here with a loaf of bread beneath the bough,
a flask of wine, a book of verse - and thou
beside me singing in the wilderness
and wilderness is paradise enow
think, in this batter'd caravanserai
whose doorways are alternate night and day,
how sultan after sultan with his pomp
abode his hour or two, and went his way.
they say the lion and the lizard keep
the courts where jamshyd gloried and drank deep;
and bahram, that great hunter - the wild ass
stamps o'er his head, and he lies fast asleep.
up from earth's centre through the seventh gate
i rose, and on the throne of saturn sate
and many knots unravel'd by the road;
but not the knot of human death and fate.
while the rose blows along the river brink,
with old khayyam the ruby vintage drink:
and when the angel with his darker draught
draws up to thee - take that, and do not shrink.
'tis all a chequer-board of nights and days
where destiny with men for pieces plays:
hither and thither moves, and mates, and slays,
and one by one back in the closet lays.
and much as wine has play'd the infidel,
and robb'd me of my robe of honour - well,
i often wonder what the vintners buy
one half so precious as the goods they sell.
tamam shud