July 10, 1:11pm The rain in pain falls mostly on the strains which I am only saying because I can. oh elocution. 'Pain in the body becomes poetic only after it has waned enough that you have breath to say: Pain is poetic… The giddiness of having less pain may drive you to drink or worse, to rhyme. Pain unveils hidden cities that occupy desert bodies - and then, I asked myself, where are you going to live? what street, what sinew?' [from Sinew] This is what comes from making faces at tyrants...

july 4 state of the union, take one tyranny is a tinny sound that the orange fellow makes in front of reflecting pools wah wah wah which is wail in English but in Urdu, it's what you say two times when the poet just kills it. tyranny is talking ourselves out of remembering we are also the wild dark ones made of mystery following our gut and smells of other animals in caves highways byways bus stops We have lost our animal selves, ceded the cave for the picket fence, lost the howl, the sharp...

June 22, 2026 There are stones, branches and futures you see in rivers that you cannot see in other bodies of water. A river is on its way somewhere else and in that way, it is like time. It has its eye on some future spot, where it meets another body of water and changes. Ergo, therefore: when in doubt about the future, ask a river! …is my Solstice insight from yesterday. I walked along the Animas river in Aztec, New Mexico and put my hands in the water. And I saw the future and it was...