the missed spaces, the missed places, the missed times, the missed rhymes, the missed persons I could have been or will be, the fear that restricts me, the choices that elate me, the food that prolongs, the life that kills and opens and winds up and scares and tears and screws, inspires and heightens and pitches and rolls and drowns and crowns and takes hold of and molds and breaks and pours into and empties and burns.

and here we steal away together

recorded 18.4.17

Do I change

Like the landscape passing by this train

Or like the fields themselves?

 

Sowing sustainability

Crop rotation of my life.

 

I rip out the invasive weeds

Whose roots have tangled around

My heart and into my stomach.

 

The removal feels violent, is painful

The fibers hold tight, protect themselves, fight to live

Fear jealousy anxiety.

 

I open my mouth and like the owl

Regurgitate an ugly clump

Whose stems and leaves and deceptive flowers have been suffocating my soil.

 

It has taken much time and convincing

To recall and recognize the old ways

Techniques of sustenance.

 

I push a thumb into my own earth

Forming concave craters with sufficient space between

To place a number of seeds

A variety which feed

One another.

 

Respect nurtures trust nurtures loves nurtures joy

Is joy

Is

Joy.

recorded 26.4.18

-.-.07 - 7.4.18