A squirrel lays his plans for me at the trolley station to-day.
Who knows how much of the past forty eight hours he's been responsible for? I'm exhausted, having been up 'til 2am moving things to my new apartment. Then I had to get up at 7:30am for the cable guy only for him to tell me Cox won't enter a relationship with my modem until she's legally divorced from Time Warner. So I won't have internet until at least Monday--I'm at the university again now, waiting for one of the students to show up I'm scheduled to tutor.
I have so many books. So, so many books. I fill up a box with DVDs and knick knacks and can carry it easily. I fill the same box with books and I need a fork lift. It shows my devotion to the old, physical, bound paper things that I don't simply leave these at the dumpster and order them all for my Kindle.
Anyway, I may be scarce online over the next few days. Here's a lizard.
Twitter Sonnet #840
An invisible diamond pattern stuck
The blue and grey old room, too thick with dust,
Concealing books with dragon legs untucked
Beneath the wings of steady, silent rust.
In quivers left beside the scaffold's ghost,
Black arrows dream of rain on bucklers bent,
The leather shoes and hands are cracked, the host,
Yet merry, drifts into a wood for rent.
The twins of green underground light revealed
The blond unveiling sky beneath the dome
Will blink before the swirling sauce congealed
Atop the nineteen forties goose's comb.
Ambition phased absent from stale coffee.
The rotary wrought mill dialled frothy.