We are born into this world with all its bombs and birdsongs, diseases and deities, poverty and purity, blizzards and beauties. Born into criminals and kissers, debtors and creditors, snowballs and sleezeballs, greed and generosity. Born into freedom and detention, killers and killjoys, flowers and fault lines, pocket change and climate change. Dancing, singing, weeping, raging. Slaving, building, crushing, creating—the beauty and brawl of it all.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
-
TO MY GRANDMA ON HER 90TH BIRTHDAY My grandma is a mensch in a world gone farklempt. She’s learned some Czech words. Some Spanish words. Man...
-
I Slowed Down I slowed down this morning just for a minute. And before I knew it; the pain crept in. You see I wanted to stop and ...
-
We need more poets We need more poets, To battle bullets unafraid, To speak with words as shields, To use stories as spears, T...
No comments:
Post a Comment