Eeksy-Peeksy

augury doggerel

Friday, January 18, 2002

Yoke

Even on normal days, it's still night when I get up in the mornings, but yesterday I couldn't sleep and got up at three. I stuck my nose into Plutarch for an hour or so -- Cleopatra and her thousand flatteries -- and then had my morning shower with the light out, crouching in the dark. In our little water heater on the wall over the bath, a blue and orange flame shows the silhouette of the thermostat's metal tongue.

And my head popped open. In Xanadu did Kubla Khan a stately pleasure dome decree, My mistress eyes are nothing like the sun, Shall I compare thee to a summer's day, When my loves swears that she is made of truth, What potions have I drunk of Siren tears, Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, To one who has been long in city pent, Earth has not anything to show more fair, My heart leaps up when I behold a rainbow in the sky, Much have I traveled in the realms of gold, I met a traveler from an antique land, When I consider how my light is spent. All came out, one after the other, whole, as if someone had dropped a fistful of coins into the juke box at Palgrave's Golden Treasury and Tavern.

The woman got up to see who I was talking to. No one. Sleep. I'll go to work.

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