The Everyday Twisting & Turning
10/24/2023 Recent events have made difficult what once fell like petals
We Believe Con/Jur/d, 10/24/2023 (How is it the end of October?) We believe the silliest things like, the best poems are written in this crepuscular moment between Sun crown and birth before the inevitable messiness of placenta, gunk, and afterbirth rather than seeing our entire lives as the magical act of twilight, always in the Goldilocks position between too far and too close, the oxygen revolution's dose-dependent giving of life or a poisonous death And we believe this traveling through this suchness consists solely of a completed future and a lessoned and storied past ever-changing depending on one's depth of penetration Not giving now, this momentary dawning the praise and place it deserves The sun crests it is too late to write any thing of worth leave it for now you can (and should) complete it when the conditions are liminal, uncertain like this:
Much love,
Con/Jur/d, 10/24/2023