By Frank O'Hara
I wanted to be sure to reach you;
though my ship was on the way it got caught
in some moorings. I am always tying up
and then deciding to depart. In storms and
at sunset, with the metallic coils of the tide
around my fathomless arms, I am unable
to understand the forms of my vanity
or I am hard alee with my Polish rudder
in my hand and the sun sinking. To
you I offer my hull and the tattered cordage
of my will. The terrible channels where
the wind drives me against the brown lips
of the reeds are not all behind me. Yet
I trust the sanity of my vessel; and
if it sinks, it may well be in answer
to the reasoning of the eternal voices,
the waves which have kept me from reaching you.
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Every time I've gotten a TDaP vaccine, I've been off the next day, though this time isn't as bad as last time; no nausea, even though I got the MMR on top of it. But my arm is pretty sore, so I took it kind of easy on Tuesday -- did some computer stuff and reading. In the afternoon we took a walk to the beach even though it was 85 degrees and the beach was crowded!
My Trek group watched DS9's "The Forsaken" in which Odo and Lwaxana remind us why we love them. We ate leftover pho and saw the Orioles lose in extra innings, plus the Mariners, then we watched some more A Murder at the End of the World, which like The OA I'm not sure I love but I'm not bored for a moment. Here's Victoria Harbor from dawn past dusk:
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