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You can't be an NDN person in today's world
and write a nature poem. I swore to myself I would never write a nature
poem. Let's be clear, I hate nature — hate its guts
I say to my audience. There is something smaller I say to myself:
I don't hate nature at all. Places have thoughts — hills have backs that love
being stroked by our eyes. The river gobbles down its tract as a metaphor
but also abt its day. The bluffs purr when we put down blankets at the
downturn of the sun and laugh at a couple on a obvi OkCupid date
and even more stellar, the jellybean moon sugars at me. She flies and
beams and I breathe.
Fuck that. I recant. I slap myself.
Let's say I live in NYC. Let's say I was the first person in my family to
graduate college. Let's say UGH I like watching New Girl on Hulu.
This is the difference:
Some see objects in the Earth, where I see lungs. Sky mother falls thru
a hole, lands on a turtle.
Hole is my favorite band.