| Poem for Saturday |
[Mar. 1st, 2003|10:25 am] |
Prospects
By Anthony Hecht
We have set out from here for the sublime
Pastures of summer shade and mountain stream;
I have no doubt we shall arrive on time.
Is all the green of that enameled prime
A snapshot recollection or a dream?
We have set out from here for the sublime
Without provisions, without one thin dime,
And yet, for all our clumsiness, I deem
It certain that we shall arrive on time.
No guidebook tells you if you'll have to climb
Or swim. However foolish we may seem,
We have set out from here for the sublime
And must get past the scene of an old crime
Before we falter and run out of steam,
Riddled by doubt that we'll arrive on time.
Yet even in winter a pale paradigm
Of birdsong utters its obsessive theme.
We have set out from here for the sublime;
I have no doubt we shall arrive on time.
I have been dreaming of this since I first heard the words "library computer" on Star Trek: plans for Alexandria Library, an online collection of every book in the world available by mouse-click. I love living in this century despite the ongoing idiocy of so many of our global leaders.
![[info]](http://www.deadjournal.com:8080/userinfo.gif) tyellas points out this Nerve.com essay by a man with a fetish for super-heroines who transform -- quite interesting and entertaining, particularly for Wonder Woman fans.
My big, enormous smile for the morning, courtesy lexluvsclark: "If I Were King of the Forest", spoilers for "Rosetta."
And gacked from thepiratequeen, this wonderful quiz:
You are artistic, a bit whimsical, and less iconic
than the train on the other side of the Park.
Others may see you as an odd conglomeration of
new and old-fashioned ideas, but you realize
that's part of your charm.
Which New York City subway line are you?
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