journal

XXV.I wrotethe childrenthe vulnerableshitting fucking eatingtwo of these you do not tend to do in groupsI write my hands crythe earththe reversal of the earthpity for the poetfor the poet is of praisefor the praise of shefor her understandingawful understandingI wrote that truth should stand stillfor she is full

“All the things you dream of: do them now, while your enemies are reeling, trying to figure out their next angle of attack. There won’t ever be less repression, less police and private security, less drones and dogs. I personally regret not pushing harder before our possibilities shifted, not

XXIV.on a rough crossing of Lake BaikalI am inside a water dropleton the glass of my actual ferryfollowing in its saltwater course itsodddistorted horizonon a rough crossing of Lake BaikalI can’t wait to tell you simpler thingshow the wind is gone round to the Eastbringing cooler air anda

XXIII.the extreme poverty of Moerewaa poverty that not povertycontrasts with a smellnot te ika the eel tuna not thatneither a full range of offalsand associated productsincluding foetal blood not the smell ofthe freezing worksthe fronted up houses the shops boardednor the café boarded where stones on every tablefresh smoked

XXII.what did you say to herI was wrongenormous ladies of the morningreverse the trend of fat young menthe ad reads sex for life appears often often appears on a facing page appears to mean sex for life for not against a struggle struggle not effaced sex for life for