The Many Names of Paradise

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Tuesday, January 25, 2005

Bucking the Trend

In an effort to stave off blogalial inertia, it is hoped that this entry will halt my dismal slide into apathy and blog neglect.
I'd like to say that I've been busy with school, by nay, gentle friends, while Washington was inching through the ice and sleet, I was in Los Cabos thinking sleepy comparative thoughts about sand and snow. I did manage to get a lot of work done though. More so, in fact, than on a more representative weekend, house-bound and cartoon-addicted (new favorite: Dave the Barbarian on the Disney Channel); it must be something about the sound of waves through the french doors...

In other news, I am typing this entry (in Government Process) on my VERY BRAND NEW computer, Shakespeare the Latitude X300. Shakespeare is slim, sleek, versatile, and best of all, 2.9 lbs. I am in love.

:)

~

posted by Shangrila @ 8:57 AM

Thursday, January 13, 2005

A Good Beginning

My Property professor: "Woodrow Wilson once said, 'A lawyer is like a needle, a thing of one eye and one point.' Well, screw you Woodrow Wilson."

~

posted by Shangrila @ 10:23 AM

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Poem of the Moment

Sweet Reader, Flanneled and Tulled

by Olena Kalytiak Davis

Reader unmovâd and Reader unshaken, Reader unsedcâd
and unterrified, through the long-loud and the sweet-still
I creep toward you. Toward you, I thistle and I climb.

I crawl, Reader, servile and cervine, through this blank
season, countingâI sleep and I sleep, I sleep,
Reader, toward you, loud as a cloud and deaf, Reader, deaf

as a leaf. Reader: Why donât you turn
pale? and, Why donât you tremble? Jaded, staid
Reader, Youâwho can read this and not even

flinch. Bare-faced, flint-hearted, recoilless
Reader, dare youâRare Reader, listen
and be convinced: Soon, Reader

soon you will leave me, for an Italian mistress:
for her dark hair, and her moon-lit
teeth. For her leopardi and her cavalcanti,

for her lips and clavicles; for what you want
to eat, eat, eat. Art-lover, rector, docent!
Do I smile? I, too, once had a brash artless

feeder: his eye set firm on my slackening
sky. He was true! He was thief! In the celestial sense
he provided some, some, some

(much-needed) relief. Reader, much-slept with and Reader, I will die
without touching, You, Reader, You: mr. small-
weed, mr. broad-cloth, mr. long-dark-day. And the Italian mis-

fortune you will heave me for, for
her dark hair and her moonlit-teeth. You will love her well in-
to three-or-four cities, and then, you will slowly

sink. Reader, I will never forgive you, but not, poor
cock-sure Reader, not, for what you think. O, Reader
Sweet! and Reader Strange! Reader Deaf and Reader

Dear, I understand youyourself may be hard-
pressed to bare this small un-necessary burden
having only just recently gotten over the clean clean heart-

break of spring. And I, Reader, I am but the daughter
of a tinker. I am not above the use of bucktail spinners,
white grubs, minnow tails, Reader, worms

and sinkers. Thisandthese curtail me
to be brief: Reader, our sex gone
to wildweather. YesReaderYesâthat feels much-much

better. (And my new Reader will come to me empty-
handed, with a countenance that roses, lavenders, and cakes.
And my new Reader will be only mildly disappointed.

My new Reader can wait, can wait, can wait.) Light-
minded, snow-blind, nervous Reader, Reader troubled, Reader,
what dâye lack? Importunate, unfortunate Reader:

You are cold. You are sick. You are silly.
Forgive me, kind Reader, forgive me, I had not intended to step this quickly this far
back. Reader, we had a quiet wedding: he&I, theparson

&theclerk. Would I could, stead-fast, gracilefacile Reader! Last,
good Reader, tarry with me, jessa-mine Reader. Dar-
(jee)ling, bide! Bide, Reader, tired, and stay, stay, stray Reader,

true. R: I had been secretly hoping this would turn into a love
poem. Disconsolate. Illiterate. Reader,
I have cleared this space for you, for you, for you.