impenetrable individualized ignorance implicates its idle island into ideas involving inclusion

the earth is bleeding now pus seeping out of raw, exposed wounds and we drudge through floods overflow the streets destroy “civilization” take out the vulnerable parts first the real problems are left in tact all the resources are still hoarded, unaffected by the poison waters only the transient wage earners practically invisible have lost everything.

winter is a dreamland. the cloudwater drops in crystalline star shapes to the earth into heaps with the same fluffy texture as originally in the sky. it covers the green plants and the brown and gray earth, the faded fallen leaves of autumn with a restful blanket so that the earth may dream. a blank slate for a full imagination the woods are silent, the water runs beneath its icelayer and drops off from tree branches, and the winter birds…

Women in the kitchen know That their work is only beginning. They know that laughing is better Than crying, but the onions won’t let them alone. When women in the kitchen chop garlic They remember teeth pulled from their mouths And when they crush pepper corns They smell the dust of ground up ancestors In the sharp black powder. With ladies’ fingers and cabbage hearts On their cutting boards Women in the kitchen cook for friends Who give birth in…

Thank you mother for this paradise For bleeding sunsets and swollen organ-clouds Reminding us that our own bodies, turned inside out, full of tree roots And skin plains and red lakes Came from something mighty, and will one day become worm food. Thank you for beaches on hot mornings and the slumbering bay, Whose calm blues say, “come in, you are mine and I am yours and ours.” On days when we’ve made ourselves so big That we can’t even…