As I left Priscilla's with my coffee this morning I noticed a flier for their upcoming poetry reading. A note at the bottom urged open mic readers to honor the wishes of the coffee house that will provide them a stage by abstaining from profanity or graphically sexual language.
My first thought was, "Wow, poetry ain't what it used to be."
But by the time I got upstairs and pulled this book off one of the shelves in the office, I'd realized that poets have been pushing the boundaries for a long long time. (See: Walt Whitman's "I Sing the Body Electric".)
Wonder what racy stuff Homer wrote when he wasn't working on "The Iliad" and "The Odyssey."
Oh, and it snowed in SoCal again!
I drove home around noon so I was able to see it fall in big fluffy flakes. It coated the hillsides in a little over an hour .
Hydra's van pool was stopped on Sierra Highway on the way home, but make it through okay. He'd left the Tahoe parked by the pick-up point, so when he got home, he brushed snow off of it before putting it in the garage.
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