writing in service of change, solidarity & the sensuous
spill forward
Leaning forward into a mass of moving bodies, will I be held, will I fall? Will I embarrass myself? Am I too heavy? Am I too uptight? Will I hurt someone? Will they let me down? Will they abandon me in a pile on the floor?… keep reading
dreaming of shi(f)t
I keep dreaming of shit. A few scenes from the psychic depths over the past couple months: trying to find a toilet, heating up a pot of diarrhea to drink, my cat shitting outside, a sewage truck seeping, full of community shit. I haven’t had many reoccurring dreams that I remember… keep reading
A stretch is a bow to the body
Slow to move, relishing the quiet, music-less moment. I gravitate towards the ground, finding a spot in the sun as I do. Let me absorb your glaring rays, lull me, wake me.… keep reading