Saturn of arenaceous rings—
Observant of so many things—
Administers this dreary season
Upon the boundaries of reason.
I've started working a new job and am absolutely exhausted because of it. I'm often too tired even to read! But things should lighten up in a week or two. One welcome side effect of working so much is sleeping more heavily.
This month I wrote nearly forty poems, most of which were dreadful. I'd like to take a break from writing poems and focus on philosophy for a while instead. Poetry wilts when the skies are too long cloudy, but philosophy is a hardier perennial.
I offer a complimentary cocktail with artichoke liqueur, for whoever feels tempted.
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Writing categories as plant life. I like that.
Is there a form that brings poison ivy to mind?