a blournal
What’s poetry without an Agamemnon allusion alas. Chance of precipitation was thirty percent sure enough. At this rate we’ll just slosh into autumn, thinking: aren’t the leaves pretty? Which they’ll surely be; funny though perennially unnoticed in youth lauded as they fall aged. It’s too early for bourbon in New England things being relative and […]
Read More Ode to SummerAfter a most sophisticated weekend of independence and familial nonsense which will soon be recounted in detail, I am moved by a refined inner-impetus to publish a couple of weddings amidst the hobo upper crust, the recaps of which seem to have gone by the wayside in last week’s Sunday Times. Without further ado: Juanrita […]
Read More Hobo Marriages of Noteworthy Prestige as Omitted by The New York Times
Being Thayer 