When Urania was young/ All thought her heavenly/ With age her eyes grow larger/ But her form unmaidenly

Tuesday, November 09, 2004


I'm used to heat being delivered to my house continually, invisibly - though wires and gas pipes. It's strange for a truck to pull up to the front of the oil and pump gallons of oil into a tank of my basement, especially when I'm in that basement and I didn't know that the oilman cometh. It's like chopping wood for a great hearth - well, like having someone else chopping wood. And no magnificent hearth. But kind of like that.

Ominous, of course, that the vendor doesn't seem anxious this year to offer to me a locked-in slightly-higher-than-market rate on this petroleum product.

Wednesday, November 03, 2004


Go fuck yourself.

(no longer) sincerely yours,

Once a moderate Republican