God make our rage count for something. The apple tree. The grapevine wrapping itself around the trunk, how it can’t let go. Every day someone tells me to leave— ‘Beirut is next.’ Did I hear correctly. Do you see what we see. Don’t tell me Lebanon. Don’t tell me Palestine.…
4 tygodnie temu
Yes, the fog has lifted. I can almost think again. Mostly about words, what remains of them, where they are stored. No doubt it is January, outside the trees strip like bodies. Though I fear storms, I like their aftermath. I scribble this down– my handwriting too old,…
4 tygodnie temu
Today my steps are finally light, and the pale afternoon is a little breath. I love cauliflower with turmeric, the taste of sweet olive oil, the rubber trees, how we really belong to all of this, how the universe is as old as it is young, and what a thought.…
4 tygodnie temu