A cento from Mary Oliver’s "Blue Horses" that got cut from "Each One a Furnace"
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The worlds we shelter in are not real
Snippets of things I've been thinking lately, including my broken mental time machine, and other matters
Snippets of things I've been thinking lately, featuring the digestive powers of immigrants (or lack thereof) and other matters
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It's book promo season, so I have to subject you to posts like this :)
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Hail the terrariums of our production
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You got me, kid. I do not feel the cheer I deploy. Do you hear the hollow ring of my laughter, the empty in my eyes as we play?
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Evolutionarily, what does it mean that the young of humans reach for brightly-colored objects?
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