kept amongst the horseflesh–

you have an eye for what you like to ride.

something that kicks and purrs and moans

beneath as you straddle astride.

Does it matter if the tires grab the road,

or the hands grasp the sheets?

If the engine chokes or the throat is throttled–

if it’s the squeal of agony or rubber on the street?


Every hour has its story,

Of a hundred days

that flow into it like a river.

A composition of elements

that will never intersect again,

But go tumbling downstream–

to what ends we cannot know.

Some to spin the millwheel,

some to flood the fields,

And we cannot tell

if they are wicked,

or industrious,

in the manner they are spent.

For a virtuous hour,

may as likely turn sour,

as one concupiscent,

reaps sweetly of scattered seeds

on barren and borrowed time.

Ichorous Icarus

Iliad V. 364–382[2]

Blood follow’d, but immortal; ichor pure,
Such as the blest inhabitants of heav’n
May bleed, nectareous; for the Gods eat not
Man’s food, nor slake as he with sable wine
Their thirst, thence bloodless and from death exempt.


Misericordia, heart mercy,

heat death,  ardor mordant,

the love that perishes in its own flame,

what is left of a cold universe,

silent in expanse of bed and night.

When the corporeal pulse ceases,

the soul repopulates the stars.

Sic itur ad astra.

I cannot coax love back from pomegranate seeds;

What belongs to death, Hades must have.

And I am his.


Death Comes to Pemberley

Lady Catherine: “I told him he needed to decide whether to live or die, and then get on with it with as little possible inconvenience to others.”

Elizabeth Bennett: “I’m sure he appreciated the clarification.”


Darcy to Georgianna: “Marry for love, marry the one your heart cries out for, and when you have, do not doubt them for a single second.”

Fowl Play

Antichoice advocates always speculate on the unborn curing cancer.

Not once have they said, what if that unwanted offspring becomes the Zodiac Killer or starts the Trojan War?

If Leda had the morning after being raped by a god pill, would it have saved the ancient world, or destroyed the epics? With access to abortion would all god attributed pregnancies simply cease, and the world become a little less magical and inexplicable for everyone? I would sacrifice Homer and Hymen for that.