These days
A meditation, I suppose, on grief. Plus I read you two poems and also a third one that I wrote last month, but it's still a work in progress. Just like the rest of us.
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a mountain that wasn't burning
Do you guys want an album of poetry? Good, I made one.
The huge beating genius machine
I've been doing a lot somatic therapy and EMDR for nine months, when do I get to ascend? Maybe that's not the point. Plus a bunch of recent publications, an upcoming album, and an all-timer from Ada Limón.
All this love
Good news. Turns out we have an infinite capacity for love.
A bird and a stone
Writing from a floor in Chicago again. There have been many beautiful days, though I live too much in my mind.