The Gift of Trouble Sight and Summer Bookish Delight

BookCon was rich in poetry. That made me happy. There were poetry panels (one with Amanda Lovelace, author of The Witch Doesn’t Burn in this One), poetry booths, poetry signings, even a blackout poetry section. Rommy and I were all smirks and wows (I would’ve been all grins and delighted cackles, but my stitched-up jaw wasn’t in the mood for overly expressive displays of mirth).

I got lots of swag (I shall show you in a bit). I am a bookish swag lover. Not just because free books are magic, but because its one of the ways in which I end up reading books I would’ve never picked up on my own. Since one can never have enough books (and my jaw hurt, so some distraction was in order), my Piano Man and I stopped by the thrift shop and… *drum roll please* I found a copy of Billy Fog, Volume 1: The Gift of Trouble Sight, for a couple of dollars.

I had never seen the series before. But it was love at first creepy murderous kid sight. Here are three pieces that made me giggle darkly:

“She was often found
in the kitchen, curled up
in a drawer, among enormous knives
with razor-sharp blades.”

 

“The little killer was very quiet and cooperative.
In the mornings, she carried out
her theory exercises diligently.”

 

“No scientist could ever hope to find
a better subject for study!
What curious composure!
What an unfathomable obsession!”

 

I added Billy Fog to the wee list I created to join Khaya Ronkainen’s Summer Reading Challenge. You can see the full list here, if you wish. And, of course, I will be adding a few more from my BookCon booty. All the poetry, for sure.

So, my Wicked Luvs, what are you reading this summer? What was the last book you just couldn’t keep your book-loving-self from acquiring? Share your bookish yum with me (yep, my royal bastard of a jaw still needs distracting).

 

Book, Frog, Skull, Stone, Hammer (and, oh yes, a penis bone)

The way to my heart is dark, dark,
darkness brightened by books, frogs,
skulls, and peaches my lips drink

one life-kissed poem at a time.

At 13+13+13+1+1 (love the odds),
my skull wants
wild things (horrors and bliss) inked
life that hops and transforms

like a frog (or Muse)
waiting to inspire, or birth

stories…

 

Really, my Wicked Luvs. Poetry might not be all fact, but it’s all true. For my wild-witchy-writer-heart, happiness is full of books and frogs and skulls and peach wine and hammers and stones and… after visiting The Oddities Spring Flea Market, it also contains a penis bone. By the way, when I got the penis bone, I promised I would say penis bone as often as I could.

“Penis bone,” the writer whispered while grinning like a maniac.

So… I am 41-years-delicious. I am a tad healthier than I was last year. Must thank the Universe, my Piano Man, my ink, doctors, and you… for that. My sexy flesh and bones and I are strong enough to go back to indulging in real exercises (not just those damn “therapeutic” stretches, which I’m convinced are the bastard kissing cousins of torture). A day at a time, right? Of course.

I want to show you some of my birthday gifts, because… well, I’m an Aries and according to the scientology god of memes, we Aries love showing off our skulls (I’m pretty sure I just made that up). But hey, it could be true.

The super-Girl-child, she’s just too grown up to continue being the “Little Princess”, you know? Anyhoo, the super-Girl-child made me a skull out of LEGO pieces. She said, “It’s a vampire skull, ‘cause it’s bloody. Get it?” Yep, I get it. 😀 My favorite of the gifts I got from my Piano Man is the 1st American Gods graphic novel. There was much squealing… Followed by serious cooing, when I saw the happy frog pillow case my MIL made me.

My friends from the hospital got me a wee plate, a tiny bowl, and a small glass, in celebration of going back to eating as I wish. You see, when I’m on certain meds I have to eat a lot. So, now that they’re gone, I get to eat like my wicked self likes. I prefer small portions many times a day.

A few paragraphs above, I said I was going to say penis bone as often as I could. Well, I gifted me the penis bone of a badger and an orbicular jasper stone. The stone fits perfectly in my hand. The penis bone sits rather nicely next to one of my hammers and allows me to say penis bone quite often. 😀

Rommy, did not get me a penis bone for my birthday. Nope, she got me a sledge hammer. I love it. And yes, I’ve been hitting people with it.

I didn’t hit Rommy with the hammer she got me. I didn’t even hit her with the penis bone I got for myself. I don’t think one is supposed to hit friends with one’s penis bone. Friends are for smiling like a blurry lunatic with.

See? Told you. Um… the creepy rabbit demanded to be photographed.

So, what have you been up to?