It does not seem to me that I ply an ocean of certainty as a vessel bearing the rare cargo of my imagination. It seems the ocean itself is imagined, and that it possesses its own imagination, which gives rise to me and mine. And if the ocean is deep, deeper still is the sky, into which the stars and planets are dropped one new dream at a time.
May 13, 2019
and all of this
and all of this is a thistle-wish
Recently Banned Literature, November 29, 2016
Essays and Collections, November 2016: Poems and Passages