selling the city?

I received an email yesterday from someone I'd never heard of, offering to buy my domain (www.cityoflegends.com).

The odd thing was they didn't approach me at my registry email (I keep my business separate from my writing)...oh, and the price. They were offering to take my domain I've possessed for a decade, which receives thousands of hits a month and has been synonymous with my writings (and is linked to from hundreds, if not thousands, of sites as well as is the spine for my primary email accounts on the web and that of a few fellow Bohemians and if referred to in nearly all of the acknowledgements and liner notes for my CDs and nooks) for the awe-inspiring compensation of

(gasp) sixty dollars!

I'd be insulted, but this showed me nothing wrong with me or my poetry, but either some arrogance or ignorance on the part of the requestor (I hope it is not the people from the multi-million dollar retirement village in Florida that chose to use the same name (City of Legends), as I would think that (a) they have money and (b) they understand the notion of branding).

I replied that I was not interested and then delated the email. I was bemused. Most likely some web porn operator looking for a catchy name for his staged amateur sex tapes (that's the other thing, the person taking over the domain would end up connecting with my readers due to the good will and connectivity I have built up over the last decade).

Sorry guys, I have my price...but you need to go further than the nearest 7-11 to pull that kind of cash.

new poetic fragment

A poetic fragment leapt out at me as I drove to lunch...I pulled over and hastily scribbled it down...(and you know who you are)

you are as beautiful as the sky
and I
I am lost on the horizon
where blue meets grey
meets miles away
from what steps over
the edge of the world
where words are hurled
like stones of memory
and contemplation
of your beauty


William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.

This is how poetry works, this is how poets work and this is how inspiration comes. There is a great world of difference between a construction worker and a sculptor.

new poem, anyone?

the bitter breeze

the winds are warm and dry
and lie not to me
as you did
when you blew through my hair
and said, then and there,
that you were
in my life to stay.


William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.

the podcast for this week

The new podcast is up, featuring the new song "They're Shooting Monks in Burma".

You can listen or download either via Radio City of Legends or at Apple's iTunes Music Store.