As Fish
By April Bernard
They play us as fish are played,
nameless they tug on the line.
One who has it in for me yanks my mouth
against my wishes. She once fed me
air that tasted like violets
melting and since I have been ravenous,
snapping at the least hint of sustenance.
If I knew her name I could offer at her shrine
a candle, a scrying, a fish fry,
to beg for mercy, but my offense
was too great for such gestures
as I can manage.
--------
I dropped my kids off with my parents and spent a lovely Monday with
In addition to food and Paul Gross, we went to the mall to the cheap glittery jewelry store to buy necklaces and earrings with seahorses and snakes -- everything there is like $8.99, so you can get a few -- and then stopped in Build-a-Bear because
I have an internet question and an offer. The question is, does anyone know whether there is a way to have some pages from one's web site removed from the Wayback Machine at archive.org without having to block the entire site using robots.txt? I recently learned, while researching whether my Geocities sites had been archived -- everything has been moved from them and updated years ago -- that the original version of my personal web site archived there has material that I really don't want on the internet connected to my real name, but I am happy to have my reviews and the rest left as they are. The offer is, I have a bunch of Dreamwidth codes; does anyone still need one? Send me a message here or e-mail me, if so.
Happy Bastille Day, for those celebrating. And the obvious, and the even more obvious.
