Sinister: My proper bridal gift first, and then my desire.

[Genevieve Wesley]

Hi Sinister,

David wrote:
I'd love to hear B&S play Don't Fear The Reaper. The 7" of that is the only 
record I have ever had stolen from me & I miss it :(
That song reminds me of Keith. Who would have known they were to cover it? I 
really like that I'm Burning For You song by them too, and I'm not being 
ironic or anything. The guitars are nice. I was humming it the other day and 
accidently let slip a little 'burn out the day, burn out the night' and my 
special friend cried out 'Not B.O.C! Horrible!' but that just made me laugh 
- I didn't know they were referred to as Bee Oh Cee. I suppose it's one of 
those things you learn in life, like when you are discussing a Pink Floyd 
album you say FLOYD: "______".
Tina Coffield, your pictures are beautiful! I did feel a flash of jealousy 
on discovering that little lipstick smudge on that precious jaw. I feel like 
I should be one of those sad, miserable men who devotes poetry to an 
unobtainable, fair maiden:"A shower of matched pearls his teeth. Hyacinth 
blue his eyes: Parthian red his lips. Pure white and tapering his fingers: 
long his arms. As white as sea foam his side, slender, long, smooth, 
yielding, soft as wool. Warm and sleek his thighs. Men would say that his 
hair was like the blooming iris in summer or red gold after it had been 
burnished..." The master-mistress of my passion.
I liked that Alfie song by The Divine Comedy, oh and the Father Ted on as 
well. My mom always made me turn off Frog Princess in the car though, 
"Sleaze! Sleaze!". Apparently there was lots of champagne at their live 
shows. Pulp have a new album out and I didn't even know. Only listened to 
about 3 songs on that last album though. This Is Hardcore was a fun song to 
act out and be dramatic to, sliding down walls, fanning one's face and 
pretend-dying.
A Jason from Ottawa (Hi, I live there too!) was not sure whether or not B&S 
had played there. They have not. They had the potential of being 5 hours 
away in Toronto a few years ago, but Bel's widdle tum tum tummy was hurtin'. 
The sad news is that there isn't a lot of concerts in Ottawa at all. Hefner 
in 1999, I think, was my most recent one.
I have not the new single yet, so I will have to make my annual pilgrimage 
to the record store. The cover is very colourful like the Jonathan David 
one, but I am nostalgic for the old, colour coded ones with the bits of 
writing that were just THERE instead of the usual credits.
Staralful was not being so sweet on Dublin which made me a bit disappointed 
because I was just entertaining the possibility of visiting. You have to 
discover these things for yourself I suppose. My mother says her grandma 
prayed her granddaughters wouldn't meet any boys from Cork - up to mischief, 
they were. I took my mum to a poetry reading the other day, and at the end a 
man from Cork was a real charmer to my mum: "I've met YOU before, haven't I? 
You look very familiar. Where have I seen you before?" Mother gave me a 
knowing smile. Anyways, my teacher recited some Welsh poetry there as well. 
Here is a bit of the poem, seeing as it's monday and all, that used to be 
The Sacred Feast of the Poetry Parrot. I like the frustration in the poem, 
because *I* am frustrated with faraway lipstick smudges and freckled arms.

The Girls of Llanbadarn

I bend before this passion;
a plague on the parish girls!
Since, o force of my longing,
I have never had one of them!
Not one sweet and hoped-for
maiden,
Not one young girl, or hag, nor wife,
What recoil, what malicious
thoughts,
What omission makes them not want
me?
What harm is it to a thick-browed
girl
to have me in the dark, dense wood?
It would not be shameful for her
To see me in a den of leaves.
(Dafydd ap Gwilym)

Random warm, fuzzy thoughts: I made 12 pounds of Christmas Cake, it's better 
if it sits for months you know. A little black squirrel visits the porch. 
The cats are tormented, but still I give him almonds. I haven't had a 
pomegranate in years, and now I'm going to have one.

Love,
Genevieve

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