In my insomniatic furvor last night, I grabbed my copy of Negative Blue and opened it up to a random page to find this:

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Still Life with Spring and Time to Burn

Warm day, early March. The buds preen, busting their shirtwaists
All over the plum trees. Blue moan of the mourning dove.
It's that time again,
time of relief, time of sorrow
The earth is afflicted by.
We feel it ourselves, a bright uncertainty of what's to come

Swelling our own skins with sweet renewal, a kind of disease
That holds our affections dear
and asks us to love it.
And so we do, supposing
That time and affection is all we need answer to.
But we guess wrong:

Time will append us like suit coats left out overnight
On a deck chair, loose change dead weight in the right pocket,
Silk handkerchief limp with dew,
sleeves in a slow dance with the wind.
And love will kill us--
Love, and the winds from under the earth
that grinds us to grain-out.
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I copied this poem in late July, 2001 on the back of a Yahtzee score card. I received Negative Blue for Christmas this year. Didn't know that poem was in there. Lack of sleep makes it seem unique that I opened to that page... brain fights that explanation.

In other news, there have been new devlopments in the Sno-Jousters story. A villian has been created. A purpose for all of the snow jousting has been cited. A sequal is already in the works. Complete with illustrations.

But that was Sunday. Last night, before the insomnia set in, I started my second read through "Ideal Code, Real World". I'll kick some "jams" about chapter one tomorrow (because I know everyone wants to gain a better understanding of rule-utilitarian moral theory, as filtered (read, butchered and transmogified) by me.)

In the mean time, I have to go to my least favorite office, court of appeals... (crowd booing in the background)