Steph: sorry, I was just about to pick out your poem when a USADA doping control officer showed up at my front door with regards from Anne Gripper and the UCI (and when Anne says “pee” one must pee). A madcap adventure ensued whereby I tried to drink enough to be able to produce a urine sample to prove that I’m no longer taking EPO.
I’m supposed to be in Florida right now – or better said – I had the opportunity to be in Florida right now, but things got f’ed-up, as they often can when it comes to matters of the heart. So – as you could surmise based on the fact that I’m writing a blog entry from Pittsburgh after having been subjected to an OOC doping control on Thanksgiving Eve – I’m not in Florida, which sucks, but at the same time is a by-product of everything I’ve ever done up until now.
I’ll come up with a gratitude list later tonight, after I polish off that bottle of Chianti, but in the meantime, let me leave you with that poem:
When you said you were coming it was but empty words;
Now that you have gone you have left no trace.
The moon shines aslant the roofs at the fifth watch;
I dream that you have gone away for good;
I cry out, but it is impossible to call you back.
I try to write you, but such is my haste that the ink is not properly mixed.
On the top part of the cage the light of the wax lanterns reflects the gold king-fisher feathers.
The musk perfume floats faintly through the embroidered hibiscus curtains.
Liu was sorry that Paradise was so far away,
But I am still more troubled, for I am much further away than he.
The east wind comes in gusts, bringing soft drops of rain;
Beyond the hibiscus pond there is faint thunder.
The gold toad bites on the lock and the incense comes through;
The jade tiger pulls at the rope and water is drawn up from the well.
The lady Chia spied through the screen on the charms of the young secretary Han;
The lady Mi left a pillow for the prince of Wei,
But the human heart in spring cannot hope to vie with the flowers,
For every surge of heart there is a pinch of ashes.