June 10th, 2009

red-eyed goujun by _mrowr @ muffyface

Horse Latitudes

When the still sea conspires an armor (*an* armor? Really, Jim?)
And her sullen and aborted
Currents breed tiny monsters
True sailing is DEAD
blah blah blah

This is one of those sargasso 'I hate my life' periods, and so as a counteractant I bring you....

Medieval Arabic Poetry from Spain! Collapse )

ETA: I remember someone trying to convince me, back in '68, that Horse Latitudes was all about having sex with a condom on. The horses are sperm. I suppose it works.