Latvian Juice


“We haven’t gone shopping since coming back from camp — This morning I made a compote from frozen fruit and served over keto pancake from a mix on the back of the breakfast shelf”
“My Mother when making a batch of jam or jelly would pour water in the emptied pot and store it in the fridge in a black clay pitcher — When friends asked what we were drinking we replied, ‘Latvian Juice’”
“Our irregularities often act as a set-up to our personal ‘set’ — My favorite summer drink as a child also created a series of future potentials whose avoidance or execution was inevitable — If I had become a pornstar or baseball player at some point Latvian Juice would have most likely become my nickname”
“As an artist, madman, occasional bum, teacher, father or any other persona cloaking the unknowable core — I avoided too crude names while lifting my childhood weirdness, I sublimated Latvian Juice into an elixir, a secret identity, a source of nostalgic pleasure and a way to see the child who has become a stranger, I once was”

Onward, y’all! Below please find a poem — It came out without volition or too much thought — If you’d care to make a comment feel free to reply to today’s gate(less) or hit the comment button — Have an awesome week!

Con/Jur/d, 8/30/2021

The Study Finds
Con/Jur/d, 8/30/2021

(The study finds: God is dead. And we groan: Not again!
Why didn’t they just ask us? We’ve known it for ages.

What next? The planet is dying? I have less time to live
than to be dead? The study finds: Soldiers don’t die.

And the enemy was never alive in the first place. Just
as I suspected! We say and we quote: War is good!

For plants animals and habitats a clean slate is best.
And then we can recapitulate the very beginning.

The first stirring, The coming together in the recesses of
Deep Time the solar slag the mass carbon dumps, a swirl.

How improbable, how unlikely, so soon after nothing
became something, an eternity to fleshbags (Note:

Fleshbags is a common Anthropocene term donating a
weak permeable border containing a loose network of 

microbiome, viscera, DNA, meat, bones, blood, piss, fat
saliva, and reproductive juices. See: Delusion of Self)

a micro complexity, deeply entangled, hopelessly inter-
connected, would make a macro motion to individuate.

Not just individuate. No! Replicate creating a persistent, 
hard-to-shake illusion of objects in separation. One.

Many. And this persistence across the millennia of Shallow
Time (The Time of uncoupling the Living from the Dead

) of One and Many has proliferated challenges, since the One
in their dream of isolation, always knows better than the Many.

How to prove it? How to enforce it? From top to bottom, back
into the uniformity remembered by rocks and wind and magma?

The God experiment failed. The scientific method was co-opted.
We barely know how to eat, how to sleep, or how to love here.

Our tangled wants and desires were sold to us, packaged, labeled, 
and sorted; a manifesto of segregation against creation. 

How do we answer when asked, Why is there Something rather
than nothing? The study finds: 

Unknowable, ungraspable, unthinkable)
Only this.

Leave a comment