Intermission, gardenal

Took the day half off from Unlikeness. Slept in a bit, read a bit. Wrote a bit too. Then attended to a garden prolific in my negligence of it. Today’s harvest

august produce

And this evening’s meal (11:03 and it’s still simmering the liquid down)

tom and zucch

Got some Italian sausage to pop in there before I’m done. This post has unofficially been not about politics nor about writing neither. Good night.

P.S. But here’s a image to feed the spirit

counter-protest

You know what it is right? what we need & hope for, goodness overwhelming.

Dura Mater

Been working on a new project, Dura Mater, tough mother. Membrane enveloping and protecting the brain and spinal cord. First poems to come have been visual. A cruddy ochre salvaged from nearby Sumas Mountain, ground under the tutelage of H. in mortar and pestle, watered and binded with some eggyoke, and smeared on wetted paper by finger and rocked about a bit.

This one wasn’t coming right so I planted my whole palm on it, the way I do sometimes on my mother’s frameless photo on my altar to comfort her, as if by magic I could somehow, and that again – patting, petting – and beings began to come.

Image 1 col groomed
Click once for some granularity, again for more. Some text to come.