Tuesday, August 02, 2016

the death of one of my enemies

(pic by Rasim Babayev via)

American Weirdo.

Priscilla Long: "Ghazal Seeking Grace

Green Lake’s      enigmatic in mist and morning rain.
Coots quack      fanatic in mist and morning rain.

Crows peck      at roadkill. The cat kills a bird.
We attack Iraq      venatic in mist and morning rain.

A black candle      gutters the ghost, speaks smoke,
Flutters      plegmatic in mist and morning rain.

A downpour      drenches dream, drums the night.
Dogs are not      ecstatic in mist and morning rain.

Time’s gift:      a kiss, a lazy day, an open book,
A notebook--      I’ve had it in mist, in morning rain."

--from Jabberwock Review, Summer 2015

Feamyng et al.

“And whensoever I shall have occasion to contend in the School with such a Doctor, who knows not how himself to prepare his own Medicines, but commits that Business to another, I am sure I shall obtain the Palm from him: for indeed that good Man knows not what Medicines he prescribes to the Sick; whether the Colour of them be white, black, grey or blue, he cannot tell; nor doth this wretched man know, he only knows, that he found it so written in his Books, and thence pretends Possession (or as it were Possession) by Prescription of a very long time: yet he desires no further Information.” --Basil Valentine, Triumphal Chariot of Antimony


(via thebarkingmoonbats via sweetspider on tumblr)

Memorial Day.



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