Saturday, April 30, 2016


April is the cruelest month, breeding
Maples out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain
To clog the sewer line.

(all apologies to Mr. Eliot,but honestly, it really puts the waste into The Waste Land, so this is my lone contribution to NaPoWriMo)


  1. An apt description of the mood around here. For once, when Ada was using the word "cloaca" she wasn't being metaphorical.

  2. For those of you wondering: there is a large, vigorous maple tree near my house and is the chief suspect in the clog. So I named it forth, much like the ancient Irish bards would curse people through poetry. In spite of my poetry (and stronger language) it did not deter the tree in the least.