SHE WAS A GORDIAN SHAPE of dazzling hue, Vermilion-spotted, golden, green, and blue; Striped like a zebra, freckled like a pard, Eyed like a peacock, and all crimson barr’d; And full of silver moons, that, as she breathed, Dissolv’d, or brighter shone, or interwreathed Their lustres with the gloomier tapestries— So rainbow-sided, touch’d with miseries, She seem’d, at once, some penanced lady elf, Some demon’s mistress, or the demon’s self. Upon her crest she wore a wannish fire Sprinkled with stars, like Ariadne’s tiar: Her head was serpent, but ah, bitter-sweet! She had a woman’s mouth with all its pearls complete: And for her eyes: what could such eyes do there, But weep, and weep, that they were born so fair? --As Proserpine still weeps for her Sicilian air. Her throat was serpent, but the words she spake Came, as through bubbling honey, for Love’s sake, And thus; while Hermes on his pinions lay, Like a stoop’d falcon ere he takes his prey. Three hundred minutes with Jett, Michael Peppe and Puzzling Evidence, in the soon-to-vanish Radio Valencia Redoubt at the accursed Impact Arts Hub. The impact of that place ended new shows from then on. But, as readers of this space know, we hope for a re-birth-- perhaps in the coming year? Meanwhile, on November 28th, 2020, Dr. H. Owll will have his 70th Birthday...