Sunday, January 21, 2007

It Is Finished

Our laptop died this morning, and took with it thirty pages of notes for my manuscript. I feel, as Elegant Choice would say, like bursting into animals.

I hope to return very soon. You will hear me coming; the trumpets of my periphrase will toot in your ears. In the meantime, please amuse yourself by reading a late Wallace Stevens poem over at Reginald Shepherd's blog, along with some handsomely bespectacled commentary. Perhaps I will turn to Wallace Stevens today to chop down my hundred-headed sadness. I need badly to be engulfed in a pair of afterliving arms.


Jee Leong Koh said...

What a disaster! You can run to my arms. Though they are only living, they are toasty pumpernickel bagel warm.

Tricia said...

I believe you, understanding a little already of your hundred-faceted deliciousness. Pumpernickel arms, though--alluring! If I ever meet you on the street, I will be tempted to put lox on them and bite deeply.