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I'm finished. It's finished
There is nothing to do now,
but get from this chair
to the bedroom
before the green pre-light, the leaves'
last night telling's
obliterated by another
except to be quiet
enough not to wake you.
To be quiet enough
not to wake.
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But I do miss the hymns, / the small, hard apples with their dimpled skin. I do miss / things.
The vast hinterlands of the Global South’s cities are generating new solidarities and ideas of what counts as a life worth living.
Protests in China are shining a light not only on the country’s draconian population management but restrictions on workers everywhere.