Better set aside some time this weekend...

for reading the blog because you'll want to; after all, Friday, December 10, is Emily Dickinson's birthday and the poets are celebrating at my house. Her famous Black Cake is a fruit cake, which is perhaps a negative, but good authority tells TCH that it's also an hallucinogen, which is certainly a positive. Also, the contemporary version of this intimidating cake is served with hard sauce—you're liking that already, aren't you?—which is, of course, just an alcohol delivery system. As is the cake, truth by told. It's one thing to eat a fruit cake; it's quite another to eat a fruit cake after the fruits have been macerated in brandy. So stay tuned. If we hallucinate, we'll let you know. And regardless, some of the poets are dressing up as Dickinson poems. Yes! Can't wait to see circumference. And to put you in the spirit of things, how 'bout this seemingly small poem, #1568:

Sweet Pirate of the Heart,

Not Pirate of the Sea -

What wrecketh thee?

Some Spice's Mutiny -

Some Attar's perfidy?

Confide in me -

Here's hoping for pirates and confidences. I'll let you know.