it’s 2pm and i’ve finally stopped eating muffins & gotten myself out the door (credit to @Jim for the muffins, and @the urgency of our current political climate for getting me out the door). i stop by the El Rey on Cesar Chavez Blvd, but I get there just as a couple of women are…
when the end of the world comes to town
There is no inherent violence in the apocalypse, just truth: the truth of what is really happening in our world.
The apocalypse, or the revelation of truth, will last until the truth is revealed. It is only by confronting truth that we are able to overcome the great violence and injustice that are currently prevailing.
these are apocalyptic onion times
in which sav + Elena talk about how the world has been ending, lately
tour de first
every exposed inch of my body is covered in a fine layer of either sweat or grease or that grey gook that bikes gather in rainy city streets … as bumblebees gathering pollen from a field of flowers. oh, the infinite fecundity of Boston asphalt! i have spent the past 3 days prepping for what…
Overwhelmed
[this poem is made to be listened to] A whelm rolled down the hill and towards me today Bumping and jolting in its odd whelm-ish way It was knobbly and greenish with rocky bits and gum And as it tumbled right towards me, I did not run It bumped into my body which stopped it from…
heart like a garden
a weekly schedule for soul maintenance monday: douse with water warmed in the hose heated by the spring sun. watch the water sink rapidly into the roots and say a prayer for quick uptake, as it was a dry weekend. tuesday: weeds also flourished with yesterday’s water. spend some time pulling them and look at…
In Mexico, I am 70% a man.
In Mexico, I am 70% a man. Buying street tacos, it’s “¿qué quiere, amigo?” Playing dominos in the Casa de Amigos, it’s “te toca, joven.” Walking along a strip of restaurants, it’s “caballero, te muestro la carta con platitos muy sabrosos.” The number of times I’ve been referred to as male in the past week…
The Slow Plod Of Justice Work
I wrote a thing for Life Together! Check it out here: http://www.lifetogethercommunity.org/blog/the-slow-plod-of-justice-by-savannah-hauge
Franklin Park 3/28/18
The fallen fir tree flows in sap yet, Dewy beads oozing from split branches, Still healing after we proclaim it dead. I heard once that tree blood’s an ointment, So I slathered it on the self-doubt gnawed into my cuticles. I popped a lump into my mouth, too, Maple sweet and bitter bite in one…
Love makes your soul crawl out from its hiding place. — Zora Neale Hurston
Other’s smile stretches long and full, delicately-crinkled eyes radiating warmth I shudder slightly repositioning my body to cradle a new softness Other’s eyes its halogen lamps birth unimagined without incubation I smile, teeth incandescent in their returning offering my love as midwife to Other’s own emergence ~ From my 2017 Advent poetry challenge. ~
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