Thoughts on a dead astronomer...

Did her fever-ravaged middle years

Prevent her from a doting husband

And a sticky child

Or did she love like me,

Only quietly, hidden, 

a seed buried In a grape,

Her map hidden by daylight.

I am impressed with her name

And her ability to read the 

Naked face of stars.

Rambles and a poem fragment...

Lunchtime blog is written during lunch.

Somebody brought me caffeine. I haven't started drinking it, but you better watch your ass when I do! Caffeine is GO TIME.

So, basically, this is a ramble blog. I just wanted to write to you guys. It helps me past the time while I wait for my work to come back to me. I'm waiting for my birds to fly back to me. It's cool, I have a nest and some sweet worms. Or something. Is this awkward? Anyways...

I would fly North,
But it wouldn't
be a true migration-
not the way bees
carry honey to
their true love.

Ok, so my lunch is two minutes from being over. Peace out, homies.