these fragments i have shored against my ruin
"april is the cruellest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain." as a farewell to april i offer t.s. eliot's famous words. i read "the wasteland" again last night and it took me back to last year around this time when i was studying obsessively for my master's exam and memorizing bits of poetry like those first lines until they are stuck forever in my heart. and now i get to read poetry of my choosing and whenever i like with ultimate and overwhelming freedom, and to my heart's content. it's fun because i find synchronicities and concurrences, like when dylan thomas writes: "and this last blessing most, that the closer i move to death, one man through his sundered hulks, the louder the sun blooms, and the tusked, ramshackling sea exults; and every wave of the way and gale i tackle, the whole world then, with more triumphant faith than ever was since