i did not expect to be interested but i am
i did not begin again i just began
to practice the art of staying in motion in a world that is always threatening to stun us into stasis
this is not a poem, this is a place with a train running through it
people should have a billion choices
what is the point beyond the act of pointing?
if you enjoy it you understand it
our default survival modes create awkward contradictions
i fell in love with you a little, but i'm sure that happens all the time
if this seems circular it's because it is
other people's (gertrude stein, joan retallack, my colleagues) words / my experiences / between decadent moments cops are kicking folks out from under overpasses
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