Where's My Lagoon?

I read what I think was the newest Sirenia Digest this morning. It contained a Caitlin R. Kiernan story called "BLACK WATER (MURDER BALLAD NO. 14)". It's nice. A disturbing meditation on the Black Dahlia murder and connecting it aesthetically with Creature from the Black Lagoon. The first part reminded me that Caitlin had written about reading Edgar Allan Poe again recently in her blog as the first person narrator reflects on the motive for murder. It was good.

It's really hot here to-day, I'm mostly sitting in my apartment and sweating, trying not to run the air conditioner.

Last night I watched the new episode of the resurrected Futurama. It's very meta and unfunny but what did I expect? The show has to catch up with Rick and Morty which is growing stale, too. Billy West and Phil Lamarr sound really old.

X Sonnet #1721

With careful steps, affection wound the seats.
With hapless souls reserving senses late.
Beneath the knuckles, punchy breakfast beats.
We think of this as monsters pound the gate.
When high above his shoes, the man's a foot.
Assumptions spat the gummy ear to bears.
A thousand noses know where beaks are put.
But laughter coughs a lack of vital cares.
Examples zerged the syllogistic sins.
Extorted clams implore vanilla waves.
Exemptions cut the undigested fins.
Exported Davids changed to local Daves.
Expensive zithers spring for minor notes.
Examined tides disperse collected boats.