why . . .

. . . does my profile pic keep disappearing? I am being electronically erased, and I am taking it as an ominous sign.

Reading a plethora of 16th century poetry, and that damn iambic pentameter of English verse is making me think in that meter. It won't get out of my head. (Must think unrhythmical thoughts.)

So I hear James Frey has a book deal. A fiction book deal. I am delighted. I haven't read his other books - but considering the amount of controversy surrounding them, I find it nice that a talented writer can find a book deal despite such a spotty background. It is like politics, but with a better vocabulary, and less sex.

I am starting to be enticed by poetry once again. This is for several reasons, but also includes the book of poetry I am currently reading, which I think every person who has a heartbeat should read: The Book of Orgasms, by Nin Andrews. Amazing prose poems. Daring, lusty, and all around fabulous. I completely love this book. Book of the year. Well, at least book of the week. I am also doing this thing on Shakespeare's Sonnet 144, which is my all-time favorite sonnet of his, and I think he would highly approve of Andrews' book. (For the uninitiated, Sonnet 144 is all about venereal disease. You have to love Shakespeare. What a sport.)