This is an ode to the press. I write a lot of these leading up to publications I care about. This one was unique, I sketched on some boxes, used some spray paint and some sharpies. In the space above what is captured in this photograph are three parallel rivers, the Ganges, the Susquehanna, and the Lethe.
I live in place where I am inundated with imagery of three rivers and bridges. Choosing my three rivers and doing so in an ode to the press felt like an empowering experience that I return to often.
A silence on the night. The day fluttered quietly in whisper soft resonance, So many colours slowly dying Like confetti in the rain, And echoes touched each other, a reunion of themselves, As though they were astounded At their resonating
The moral dilemma was unlearning. less than truth. Downgrading the- branded witch. Vaccine was spawning new virus. O Buddha, why did you started looking beautiful and began sitting in a living room? Trailing the smoke I was going to find
(as imagined by this lumpenproletariat) When no bigger then innocuous, ho hum, happy go lucky generic black whole sonny and cher full pinhead size zit, thine pluperfect promising mysterious seat of pants whodunnit wordlessly wise wedded waywardness writ partly apportioned,
Addiction to harmless Is accepted Addiction to harmful Is not advisable Addiction is submission Which involves Imaginations Addition is Pollution Which involves Revolution Addition is attraction Which involves Affection Addition is a fiction Which involves Correction Addition is a caution