If literature has a
holy task, is it to resurrect the dead?
—Lyn Hejinian
It’s a joyous Christmas in the tunnel of love
despite all the hacking and sneezing.
Christmas came ten months early this year
and we are all as happy for it as we are
proud of it. Mixed
with a pair of
valentines it’s the ablution of love.
This is the ablution of love (mixed
with tow or three valentines and
the bells of Grace Cathedral).
“Come out! Come
out! Where-
ever you are!!” Ah,
but I can
hear you purring under the bed.
The peacocks are also making
noises. And they pose
for us
(of course). The tour
starts
down the hill: “We’ll talk a
little bit about our farming
practices.” Etc. Next
up:
driving home; doing
