At Tenochtitlan, the sun beat down harshly / The sweltering heat made the gravel and sand swim and go hazy
Poetry
Pollen
I don’t have anything happening to me that hasn’t already muddled its way through you.
Anthropocene Angel
Little moments of beauty and cruelty that excite its angelic tendencies
The Civilizing Process
Since the civilizing process began most of us came to breathe by decree and not in the grace of our mothers
Middle Age
my grandfather came to me in a dream and held my hand with his calloused fingers to remind me I had not, in fact, crawled from a crack in the earth but belonged here
Swidden
and some who don the thread of peasantry
and all presume to claim false fatherhood