{ also: hahahaha, SOCKS. (Why are all my morning like this?) }

Good morning! I feel anxious! It is weird, not because it is sourceless (as ever) but because it didn't start when I woke up. So. That's new.

--

Am debating whether or not to load Spooks onto my iPod. Debating because it means I have to take King Arthur (shut! up!) off. This looks like a non-issue to any sane person but I have needs and those needs currently involve a bearded Mads Mikkelsen in leathers and with a sword. (Lol, 'currently', like this has not been the state of affairs since April at the least.)

On the other hand: Rosalind Myers. Hmm.

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I almost forgot what time I have to leave, and convinced myself momentarily that I am late. Way to go, me!

{ Hester Knibbe: Thetis' Heel. }

Thetis' Heel
by Hester Knibbe

Even gods, though they were born
in our own heads, died out to myth.

Just as no one can point to the source
of the spring or later at sea can say: this

is the water from deep in the earth, that
flowed from the mountaintops, so

is the stream of mortals and gods.

About my origins I know
nothing. I married the earth, a child

grew in me, fell
out of me at last, and I

babbled: little mutt of mine, I’ll
name you, dunk you in invulnerability.

He smiled at me, held me tightly
by the heel and said mama.