Despite it all, Orlando was hot as Paris

School so far has gone well. I have yet to attend my night class, but that shall be remedied in a few short hours. I am terrified of my poetry class, but it did introduce me to a really awesome poem. It's called "Love, Helen" by Lynnell Edwards. Unfortunately, I am not particularly internet savvy, so I shall have to just type it out. I was going to type excerpts, but the whole thing is just awesome. Just for a reference, this is supposed to be a letter from Helen of Troy. Hilarious.

A thousand fucking ships 

to recover my sweet ass?

What fools. And that's not

the half of it. Listen, bitch:

I wanted out. Out

of that palace house, prison

of Spartan glint and despair;

out from under the sexless

slump of the old man,

his stale breath, palsied grip;

out from the clutches 

of the brats we begot, immortals'

burden to issue heirs. Out

of it all, sister. So when 

that fine shepherd showed

his sweet face, the swan

in me lifted to meet his mouth,

wild bird heart swollen

like a snail in the Aegean breeze, 

his hands on the arc

of my cygnet neck, his hands

sculpting the hollow of my waist,

now winged love soaring

across the waves, the wine-dark

flush of desire unconstrained, 

now my marble silence

tightening as a noose

around Troy's breath. And you

want to know why and how

much and when.

I say: take your goddamn thousand ships,

rattling songs of arms and the man,

clarion gifts that seethe revenge, 

but know this: when the long battle

years wage on and you wait

for your man while age bends

your brittle frame, spots

your once-milky skin, thins

your fertile hair where he buried

his tears, released his joy, 

know this: I am beautiful

still; your men, all dead.

-Love, Helen

  Lynnell Edwards

So I thoroughly enjoyed that poem. Aside from that, not much exciting going on.