She is in season, Mme Asparagus.
Fresher than new grass, as crunchy as Brazilian sand yet more textured than the finest Camembert. O, she is a goddess and appear to me did she in dream, instructing me to appear at a farmers' market this morning and LO THUS I DID.
I now have asparagus, and the smell of my urine correspondingly smells of Listerine. Anything that goes through one so quickly cannot but be good for one.
Post asparagum, I watched History Boys and bawled my eyes out and read Auden and Hardy. God, am I alive.
Nothing better than a good cry to get things in perspective. Which is why I did this.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
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