Kayfabe, Cleopatra and Cavafy

How we got here; I am reading Ovid's Metamorphoses (just finished book 9, 6 to go). At the end of book 9, Iphis and Ianthe, the translator I'm reading (Horace Gregory) mentions a poem by Constantine Cavafy. Cavafy is perhaps best-remembered for his poem Waiting for the Barbarians, which provided the title for a slender... Continue Reading →

We only handle so much truth

We only handle so much truth Before we label those ‘uncouth’ Who seek to widen views on wealth And worry on the planet’s health. We block our ears, avert our eyes And fill the broadcast slots with lies - With pretty tales of golden times - To stop us seeing earthly crimes. And little pigs... Continue Reading →

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