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gate(less) is a practice, a log, an indulgence, spellwork, meditation, and an invitation to explore and experience the ecstatic adventure of every day. Join us to explore strange new worlds right outside your gate/door
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Exactly how you expected it to be Con/Jur/d, 2/28/2023 1. “After this,” she said “You’ll realize ecstasy is a birthright long denied, and you might be annoyed, angry, furious” Standing outside the warehouse sympathetic cohorts dumping bucket upon bucket of chlorinated fluoridated water, upon my head beads and linen adhering to my skin taking deep, deep breaths a newborn’s breath They asked, “How was that? How was that?” Over and over Instead of wailing, I ask “How the fuck was what?” And again we learn, this passage between entrance and exit is nothing we can expect or anticipate, 2. Holding to the dark wave him on fail to light a clove cigarette empty lighter sparks accompanied by crickets, must be warmer although I shiver Wind and waves are bigger the light at the hostel door small, occluded, while bright pinprick stars shine unseen above the fog as clear now as then I didn’t smoke then so what is this? 3. You do it too package the whoosh into sellable, discreet memories, how we want to be remembered, adverts for a life well spent always looking for a buyer of your hard work, your lazi - ness 4. Please, it’s not your fault you were taught religions of economics and rewards 5. I’m a lousy hugger touch having been labeled good, bad, intimate, and transactional 5a. I remember she cried after the insurance doctor tried to deny further bodywork after the third accident saying, “Touch makes us feel better but it doesn’t heal” 5b. We were drunk in those days after the divorce I often was, The Witch asked me to hug from from the ground up, saying I hadn’t learned to ground or where my center was After the 5th attempt I did a little better standing on the old concrete swaddled in honeysuckle and cigarette smoke 6. Do you remember it that way? 7. Born by C-section I almost threw up in my mask not because of the yellow disinfectant on belly, the machinic smell or discreet blood When you cried unfettered and wild, a howl of everything and everyone deeper, truer, and lonelier then it was or will be 9. We are given one poem upon entering: Just this Like this Just this.
But I think, for today I like this album more
Much love,
Con/Jur/d, 2/28/2023
There was something I forgot to say
It's always called something you forgot.
I forget a number of things😸