Thursday in CinCity

Time Warner Cable has got to rank up there with the all time bad-nics of all time--British Petroleum, Enron, Cruella deVille, Nero. Wicked. Big Fat Liars, they are, my precious. Telling me my internet will be on soon. In fact, a technician is on their way over even as we speak. Lies, lies, lies. Our internet, phone, and sometimes, television has been more off than on for the past 4 weeks and it's been tragic. No Dancing with the Stars finale. No Hulu.com so I can watch the LOST finale over and over again searching for answers to the meaning of life.

Couldn't check my work email. Not that I do, but that's irregardless.

I actually read the newspaper...

Well, my friends, it's lovely to be back online. And now that I am, I'm getting off to wash dishes and catch up with Glee. Wickedly good, they are.






A Green Crab's Shell

by Mark Doty


Not, exactly, green:
closer to bronze
preserved in kind brine,

something retrieved
from a Greco-Roman wreck,
patinated and oddly

muscular. We cannot
know what his fantastic
legs were like--

though evidence
suggests eight
complexly folded

scuttling works
of armament, crowned
by the foreclaws'

gesture of menace
and power. A gull's
gobbled the center,

leaving this chamber
--size of a demitasse--
open to reveal

a shocking, Giotto blue.
Though it smells
of seaweed and ruin,

this little traveling case
comes with such lavish lining!
Imagine breathing

surrounded by
the brilliant rinse
of summer's firmament.

What color is
the underside of skin?
Not so bad, to die,

if we could be opened
into this--
if the smallest chambers

of ourselves,
similarly,
revealed some sky.


please note: art by Ruth Carbery