new old kid on the blog,
with an occasional
old or new poem written off
the old writer's block
Vassilis,How fitting the correspondences in the sequencing of these posts. From the frozen margins of the Washington Avenue Bridge to the Elysian Fields, where (Od. Book XXIV) the souls of the dead "came to the meadow of asphodel where abide the souls and phantoms of those whose work is done." Edith Hamilton opines that the asphodel of these fields are not quite like the asphodel of our world but are "presumably strange, pallid, ghostly flowers."But that may not be the Pollyanna View. In any case, there's always some way out of the Underworld (door in the wall). "The ghost of clean-heeled Achilles marched away with long steps over the meadow of asphodel." The moral, possibly, keep your heels clean if you want to be ready to make a quick exit.
Might this moral pertain also to well-heeled sleazy politicians who are fleeter than Achilles at making an exit because they are all heel?