Mother Sea Lion
By Les Murray
My pup has become myself
yet I'm still present.
My breasts have vanished.
My pup has grown them on herself.
Tenderly we rub whiskers.
She, me, both still present.
I plunge, dive deep in the Clench.
My blood erects. Familiar joy.
Coming out, I swim the beach-shingle.
Blood subsides. Yet I enjoy still.
I'm not going to be exciting this week, sorry (at least I sincerely hope the rest of the week continues to be as unexciting to report as the past three days have been). I had a massive amount to get done on Thursday and only finished the least critical but most fun thing -- a Shutterfly photo book of our L.A. trip before my percent-off coupon expires, since sadly there are no free book coupons at the moment.
Yet another gorgeous spring day meant that we took yet another walk in a local park, this time Locust Grove after stopping at the post office to mail our tax forms. The 100 was engrossing even though I currently despise a lot of my favorite characters, and Orphan Black is back! With an awesome sad flashback episode! Since I was going through L.A. pics, here are some of the Point Dume sea lions: