Ichor

We are sorry to report, that, due to global warming, the architecture of this dome has shifted. Coleridge’s golden lotus floats on the puddles of water let in by an ancient, leaky roof above the library of All Foxes Den where Worsdworth moulders. The chthonic mother of a diamond son baffles the ancients - they want to bathe her in ichor. The roof leaks on Buddhists and non-Buddhists alike, oh scratchscape of impenetrable doom! Still, dingbats will be dingbats and hubris is just – hubris. Whatever – it is, it will be, no, it is passed down, passed on , passed through, passed in, passed out. It was such a dream. Such a dream.