![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj92P89VxGfnaY-mDbiMFMvIJk3u9ENGf-vhObZvGG1L7pjmeskyj49hLAkMa27p6A1iG7FgjXrn0ZtXB1O9FIVRV4NJDfGDKHffgGHG35rmek3ht2Lx3yTu2N2mJgUXtIe4n7wWfDv0uGV/s320/Oliva.jpg)
The poet, baffled and morose, gazes indiscreetly at the green breasts of "Olivia" -- the personification of his addiction to Absinthe.
Curious how absinthine men were plagued by succubi, whereas their female counterparts were just addicts (viz Degas's drinker below).
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ejl9NBS6J7m8YfU9QtLSrwOYUcKaUoL9XJKQ5h3Kl_Av7M5auwfR8uWjWB57AxZCZd7TJ48tl1MPBt4MhIz_rl7jrJarbcl4gtnYZpWs-_NtH2rOs7D9BuF4Mnoq94A4uWRRt_V4TEOt/s320/Absinthe+par+Degas.jpg)
Still I wonder about the Fée Verte -- the plant is named, after all, for my goddess, Artemis (Artemisia absinthium).
But it also carries the Edward Gorey-esque name "wormwood".
How bad, therefore, could the drink be?
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