
In my shell (said the Abalone)
In my shell (said the Abalone) “He’s such a shark.” Even the Apex predators garner only vague respect. Mostly it’s: “Such a Shrimp” “Slow as a Turtle” “Such a Crab” “Red as a Lobster” “Such
In my shell (said the Abalone) “He’s such a shark.” Even the Apex predators garner only vague respect. Mostly it’s: “Such a Shrimp” “Slow as a Turtle” “Such a Crab” “Red as a Lobster” “Such
Defenseless Nature left us strangely unarmored. Smallish, jellybellied, slow. Vulnerable to any bump in the night or snake in the grass or bear in the woods. Snails without shells. Yet still: seven billion! Survival shifted
This weekend we visited the deYoung for Revelations, Art from the African American South. Some of you know that I wanted to be a painter, and studied art before becoming a mama and going in
In October, 2017, wildfires ravages Northern California, destroying 8,400 structures, and leveling the homes of family, friends and neighbors. The material, spiritual and psychological impacts of those fires are still unfolding. This piece was written
Martha Dominadora In my tenderness I walk down Beverly, in the city of Angels. Busses exhale on the hot cracked pavement. Yayas in flowered huipil sit in the shade, Presiding silently over their tamale queendoms,
On the Occasion of Doubting ——– I wake knowing nothing Shower knowing less Wash away the night Swaddle in worn toweling Stand in the casement Windows wide to the city After the storm a redolence
They would hock loogies and have contests to see who could hold the longest belch They would fart when it was particularly stinky they would high five each other and say “good one”! But us
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