Stress

So, yeah, um, there's been stress. Big events... big decisions... nothing terribly exciting to report, unfortunately, just lots o' work. But, there's a light at the end of the dark, dark tunnel and I'm hoping to be back to posting and maybe even try some of those things normal humans are supposed to do on a regular basis like laundry and dishes and sleeping without grinding their teeth and waking up in sheer panic at 3.30 a.m.

But until that illusive full night of sleep with happy dreams comes my way, I'll be reciting this, one of my favorite poems and one I'd like to share for the Blogger's Silent Poetry reading.

The Lake Isle
by Ezra Pound

O God, O Venus, O Mercury, patron of thieves,
Give me in due time, I beseech you, a little tobacco shop,
With the little bright boxes
piled up neatly upon the shelves
And the loose fragrant cavendish
and the shag
And the bright Virginia
loose under the bright glass cases,
And a pair of scales not too greasy,
And the whores dropping in for a word or two in passing,
For a flip word, and to tidy their hair a bit.

O God, O Venus, O Mercury, patron of thieves,
Lend me a little tobacco shop,
or install me in any profession
Save this damn'd profession of writing,
where one needs one's brains all the time.



May you all find your version of the little tobacco shop, perhaps filled with bright shelves of yummy cashmere piled up neatly upon the shelves.