2 days in this city & I cannot find myself
though I suspect that’s the point;
but I am beginning to understand
that might be the appeal
especially when there is no self
to find.
– from field notes, 7.18.26
Tag Archives: poet
Running fast and flooding
that clean squeaky air / the morning after a thunderstorm / running fast and flooding streets built through former backwaters / July sweet July / it sings its song / I wait for the next note
[ad notare 7.7.26]
Saturday before Mother’s Day
Today I will work on the grass and gardening and petty, necessary home repairs, pondering the nature of subversiveness.
