time: 17:57
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103 words
Pre-Christian image of a crucifixion, inscribed Orpheus and Bacchus
How well he knew the wives of publicans,
come-hither smiles beneath the crumbling arches,
the lingering scent of unattended cunts.
He too was half mad, fond of garum, March’s
somber unforgiving leaden sky.
Yes, he paid taxes, cursing Midas most.
Like all false prophets he was wont to lie,
the wine upon his tongue his holy ghost.
So when they nailed him to a wooden cross,
two centuries before Lord Jesus Christ,
he did not shout in anger at his father.
He sailed amid the midnight sky, across
the Milky Way—foot, finger, hand and wrist
prostrate—till he himself could go no farther.
18 May 2012
time: 24:54
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Why Dark Shadows Sucks
I was a very small child when the Dark Shadows serial was first airing on ABC at 4:00pm Monday through Friday. Some of my most vivid early memories are associated with it. Dark Shadows was originally conceived as a Gothic romance. Premiering on June 27, 1966, it centered on Victoria Winters, a young woman who takes the job of governess to the young scion of the wealthy Collins family, who reside in the spooky Collinwood mansion in spooky Collinsport, Maine. Read more …