Bodega | excerpt from Long Life

We are trees split down our middles by our contradictions.

We are headaches tangled in the bedclothes.

Not being me makes you you.

Be easy on the small person inside you.

But withhold easy resolutions of dissonance.

Have no devices in the bedroom!

It’s a dotted world.

To be kind is not the same as to love.

To have a predicament is not a black eye.

Much is still possible: unified efforts and gentle deaths.

The more terrible possibilities are probably probabilities.

We have different definitions of sanity.

We are not bad but not good enough, or we are not good enough and bad.

We are not clear but actual.

We are not an either/or situation.

It’s book after book after night after hammer.

We enter the white stripes of sky .

The work works itself.

We are the inhabitants of it.

Rodents dance.

Flowers burst open and call for help.

I’m just standing here.

How many legs does it take a stool to stand?

excerpt from Long Life