Then jet the blue tent topple, stars rain down,- from "Love is a Parallax," Sylvia Plath.
and god or void appall us till we drown
in our own tears: today we start
to pay the piper with each breath, yet love
knows not of death nor calculus above
the simple sum of heart plus heart.
. . .
A man feeding swans in the snow.
. . .
It came up on one of my tango Pandora stations. The Google translation of the lyrics is as beautiful as the melody.
. . .
Made of shards of glass.
. . .
A fascinating NYTimes article about Linsday Lohan and a micro-budget film shot last summer.
. . .
"I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It's when you know you're licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what. You rarely win, but sometimes you do."
- To Kill a Mockingbird
. . .
Sublime.
. . .
[I want- from “Honeysuckle,” Lyn Lifshin.
to eat that
light.] Every
thing that grows
does.
