The broken-legged bull will be slaughtered today—an
end to his struggle if nothing else.
At a butcher shop in Jeromesville, Ohio, four meat processors situate their labor within their own minds and bodies.
It’s our turn, they escort us around
each section as if we’re in prison
I dug a grave under an oak-tree.
With infinite care, I stamped my spade
Into the heavy grass.
We take, rightly so, poets and writers as people who, in some way, shape, or form, are involved in praising the sheer energy of Being and, in that regard, are saying yes to the life force.
The body attacks itself, realizes the futility
in compensation, as the spirit expands
over the horizon. I am old, and yet…
Pinecones linger. The neighbor’s dog
pees on our shared fence.
There is an African proverb: If you think you are too small to make a difference, try sleeping in a closed room with a mosquito.
and when the light catches up with it, I catch myself
and throw myself into the depths
We will continue to fight for each other.
Who can remember all the selves stuffed into the miraculous
sack of skin?
“We’re more prepared than ever to block the disastrous Trump policies we know are coming,” said one climate group. As voters across the United States grappled on Wednesday with the … Continue reading →
When they were little and not yet anguish
we nurtured our griefs,
we coddled them,
said there, there, things will get better.
A growing number of U.S. municipalities are making it possible for minors to vote.
There’s a particular light when fall days die