The sun comes up and I wake up in a blur. My glasses are greasy and my house is warm. I try to focus on what is real, I try to focus on what is good in life. Life slides past me fastly like broken jelly.
I taste phlegm and brush my teeth. I don't even want to speak about the day time, when I earn my pay. When my hours are counted as something worthwhile. I struggle, I get through, nobody else seems to care.
I just want a shower. I snidely remark about something. The air is too hot. I make excuses. I want to leave or go to sleep. It's killing me, this world.
-blue, a pencil, Tangerines-
I take a breath of air, I inhale the cosmic surf, I smell the pine needles and grubby earth.
Goddamn the day is done.
She's off in the distance, a flying dakini. The choices I choose I chose quickly, with no weighing.
Too quickly, smelling of beef, tired and scared of the bare naked realness. Sleeping.
-night, the rushing of Aspens, zookeeper-
Down in the soil
You remember the rhymes?
The taste of mineral salts?
The stagnant water hanging still in the marsh?
You remember the gravel road bridge over the dark sucker filled river?
With us in the dark
Are you afraid?
Advice to a new homestead site. - Hi Dan, We're in the process of developing a permaculture site, combined with a few sustainable homes and a central building for events, work and more...
3 days ago