I've a strong cup of tea, Sloan Wainwright ululating in the background, and a bunch of eight-line poems to wrangle.
This quiet evening feels earned after a busy week that included supernovas and hop-heads, buzzing throngs and cellophane crackle, but if you're at all interested, I particularly enjoyed this and this.
A.
p.s. The vainglorious part of me also liked this.
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