Monday, September 30, 2013
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
it is nighttime i am bothered i am sorry to bother you it is this hour at this hour it is nighttime and i am still, here, in this state. can you be bothered to rearrange or to dismantle or to create a new language entirely for this. i am sorry to put you to this test. this request. it is morning it is nighttime and i was dreaming of sloths in costa rica and pad plumbing or plumbers or the man who won't stop talking over my voice. so sorry to rearrange your world for this but can i bother you, the plumber, any amount of sewage or retaliatory life lesson. in the nighttime i am dreaming and there is another country and there are bombs and there is a movie. but we don't watch the movie we are the movie and you are rearranging the furniture the couch over here no the couch over here no i think the couch over here. in the morning i think i was dreaming but the couch is gone and the sewage is piled in corners and it smells like lavender excrement and forestalled love (i wrote you 1000 love letters). in the morning i think i was reading and imagined your fictional process. i was bothered and feared you were rearranged but your words are the same, on the page, though the sounds drift through my head and i remember when it was nighttime, in the mountains, and there was an optimism a language a lesson in indigenous flowers and local vegetation, the fresh night air, and morning.
Thursday, September 05, 2013
can you hear me dance. like I haven't danced before. The ringing of incantation the music in my ears the sound of life going on about. It might be said that I have been singing along all this time. There is some optimism somewhere along the road and it is written on music paper. The sound of the text. The resonance of an alternative existence. I have no hope that we will survive the environmental apocalypse that we have already begun. But I do believe in the power of subversion. Other kinds of thinking and practice. Renegade lifestyles. Innovative outlets for creativity and thinking and existing in the world. While corporations and packaging engineers are causing the collapse of the world around us we sing and proliferate DIY entertainment. Music festivals in the woods. Handmade socks. Canned tomatoes. I just made some jam, wrote a non-narrative poem, painted my car chartreuse, took a low-pay job with flexible hours so I could spend more time making beautiful pictures. We are saving cities and riding bikes and creating communities. We are saving our butts and saving our lives. Driving off road staying off expressways moving out of cubicles. We don't have health insurance but we eat organic, set up free libraries in our yards, volunteer, listen to stories of abuse, fight institutional neglect and exploitation, maintain a work ethic in the face of apathy and ignorance, focus on the students and try to keep out the ramblings of institutional b.s., nevermind the lack of resources the lack of respect the lack of concern for quality and thoughtful pedagogy. We are making our way and creating new pathways, opening possibilities and giving hope, continuously thinking about other ways to go about this. If the sun is heating up and the rain is dying down, or the forests are becoming deserts and we are having hurricanes in the midwest at least we can say that we tried are trying want to try to be more human better human to make these moments count for more than counting profits.