One of the things about Compost Piles is that each has a developing character, which endures through and beyond seasons, then haunts imagination through wintertime and continues on through the years. So when The Friend Who Lives Too Far Away comes up with a name that so suits the character of a particular Compost Pile, then the first letter of the fourth word in the order of the Compost Pile Location Sentence is fixed. It's written in stone. It becomes commandment, around which all else must flow.
You understand Saint Teresa is down there, her heart golden, her thoughts pure,
her nine Quails and there are other mysteries from this co-founder of the
Barefoot Carmelites that so imbue that part of my world, I would build a Henge
to the gabble of words if I was able to. The Friend Who Lives Too Far
Away, suggested the name Iambe. The name sings loud, calls like a siren,
because amongst the Ancient Greeks, Iambe is the goddess of Jest, Mirth and
Satire. And the fourth Compost Pile from either the East or the West is just