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Pastimes : Don't Ask Rambi -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: Rambi who wrote (58823)	2/20/2001 11:45:37 PM
From: Volsi Mimir	Respond to of 71178

Fantasy and Conversation Speckled frogs leap from my mouth to drown in the wine (i play a minor god and transform coffee(orig.) to wine) between our wisdoms and decision. I could smile and turn these frogs to pearls speak of love, our making our giving. And if the spell works shall I break down or build what is broken into a new house shook with confusion Shall I strike before our magic turns colour? -Audre Lorde from "Coal" "Like a diaphanous nightgown,......... (now look) . . .more wine! I need a sign!

To: Rambi who wrote (58823)	2/21/2001 6:27:18 AM
From: Volsi Mimir	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 71178

You know something, as I was shutting down this computer last night I noticed that I hadn't SENT the first poem to you, it was still in Preview mode on another window. HA HA! I'm sorry- I'll just have to drop my drawers and you tan my little white butt for that..... come to think of it, never mind- I would like that too much so here is what should of been the first one-- have a fine day. Thursday it all began in the city where my closest womanfriend said 'I'm taking you out on the town' which for us meant chocolate truffle cake at a pastry shop driving up 10th to the Hill she told me 'don't stop too close behind a big truck' 'you can't see around it' <love is like that> we parked across the street from an ice cream store and saw on the sidewalk a big telescope I thought was a dummy to advertise some planetarium show because of the vinyl housing but no these optics are real 'it won't bite you' he said 'go ahead and look' and there was Saturn big as a dime on a tablecloth rings and a moon the man eager and serious in a black t-shirt was offering views of Saturn and Jupiter for fifty cents we came back for Jove and three more moons there on the pavement the sky blacked out otherwise by shop street traffic lights teenagers with smokes and radios sitting on the wall right behind us summer crowd edging by single file in their running shorts smell of coconut oil on Broadway in the middle of town I had to come in to see out ~J Aliesan getting me a glass of that magical elixur, plez. that transforms a trucker into a poet..... (hope you got a lot of ..... [cut-off due to incoherent writing]