There was a time when I could go to the statistics page of this thing and find that a Venezuelan, midway in life's course and finding herself lost in a dark forest (I believe wolves might have been involved too), had read this blog. Now she's vanished. I can only assume the rabbits have hidden her too. doing a better job than they did with Spain. She, Spain and, I suppose, the rabbits, are in our prayers. Meanwhile:
WS at the Chinese Buffet
As flies to wonton soup
are we to the guards
If us they see at all
they spoon us roughly forth
And benapkin our salty
corpses with discretion.
Yet, atimes, the corpse
proves itself false; not dead
But only numbed.
Crawling from its whitish sepulchre
It tumbles down and
down‘til intercepted belike
By trouser cuff decreed
by some kind fate unsewn.
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