“My dear fellow,' Burlingame said, 'we sit here on a blind rock careening through space; we are all of us rushing headlong to the grave. Think you the worms will care, when anon they make a meal of you, whether you spent your moment sighing wigless in your chamber, or sacked the golden towns of Montezuma? Lookee, the day's nigh spent; 'tis gone careening into time forever. Not a tale's length past we lined our bowels with dinner, and already they growl for more. We are dying men, Ebenezer: i'faith, there's time for naught but bold resolves!”
from The Sot-Weed Factor-
The Yucca Moth ++ The yucca clump is blooming, ++ tall sturdy spears spangling into bells of light, ++ green in the white blooms ++ fa...
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WRITTEN IN DISGUST OF VULGAR SUPERSTITION The church bells toll a melancholy round, Calling the people to some other prayers, Some oth...
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Mockingbird Look one way and the sun is going down, Look the other, and the moon is rising. The sparrow’s shadow’s longer than the lawn. Th...
