Liked the poem in this week's New Yorker by Lawrence Raab. (Always a red-letter day when I like a New Yorker poem. 3 times a year or so.)


Mercury must be in retrograde, or sumpin'. Or the weather's too nice. Or I'm in one of my discouragement phases. Hence lack of blogging, & stalled in Fontegaia poem. (Or maybe I'm on a new plateau.)

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