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You unearth me. And sendme packingback to the orbiting
tern of the self. You glo=itterr by the ocean's edge, out beyond Edgar's cape.
Go! make your appointed
roiunds. Painted dignitary
to the apothecary.
Chemist with a thousand stars in each eye.
Your pigskin freckles tickle me. Your heart built of a million spearson fire. Noiseless as
a printer without power.
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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.
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