Sunday, October 7, 2012

Grasmere, circa 2000


     A most wretched  rumor of patchy frost tonight.  I can persuade myself  it'll be a passing blight at around seven or eight thirty tomorrow morning, it'll feed a little and then it'll move on. And I can persuade myself that around ten days from tomorrow frost will come again.  It's this next frost that will consume.  Then on the day after Winter Solstice, day light will begin to lengthen.  And there will be celebration to mark that moment, which could include a reconstruction of the uniform of an Armenian Private Soldier circa 1760.

     Walking Stewart also had an idea that the English Language was doomed to an extinction.  In  "Harp of Apollo," he modestly, "conjured (his) readers to translate this work into Latin, and to bury it in the ground, communicating on their death-beds only its place of concealment to men of nature." On December twenty first - which this year falls on the more traditional Friday goddamned it -  let's hope that the ground's not frozen and that Walking Stewart was wrong about Latin, and that I am correct about Assyrian Cuneiform.


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