And yet whole worlds so close, postponed by colliding logics, opinions where sight might be, to common need. We could not invent the water, though some tried. The post Everywhere appeared first on Breadcrumbs ..read more

These whose trespass by dreaming to build a sky wide enough to hold up time and daughters in the sun press sides and backs together to make trees of a common reach. For water, for their sons, as the sun goes dark. Not to be moved, they are plowed, knocked down, shot, and mocked; they bleed from the sides of them, but the rhizome threads reveal themselves now a vast below, to hold. Here is the same sky that turned dark when guards at the first turning murdered the liberator for trespass of healing touch, for refusal to stone them, for exiling none but the moneychangers in the temple, whose bloo ..read more

they banish the cameras to do this the news goes dark the news cuts to the shining hall of shining faces beneath the rockets red glare what unholy betrothal of lust and war begat this moment when the lens of the hour is a gunner’s sight aimed at the child in the rubble of a former home who dares to call after a missing friend, come out come out wherever you are the bombs bursting in air what truth is this what night their eyes the children have cousins who from the opulent lawns on the other side before the chancellors of progress scream because they still have breath to give and they fly it t ..read more

An enfolded order has a way of highlighting the persistent presence of what many call a mess, a catch-all term to highlight the collective creation of living beings who will not submit to confinement or easy reduction. The post Mechanics appeared first on Breadcrumbs ..read more

A cry like that final cry is music for everafters to dwell inside, but who hears? Above the commerce of killing in the name of ending death, only the closest to its edge. Those condemned to death see clearly, trust in water, for a body owning nothing can never be owned, and give it all away with an abundance that terrifies whomever thought themselves a step above now tawdry with pretense in a cardboard crown, another clowned owner of that endlessly elusive all. *** Inspired by Mahmoud Darwish’s I Have the Wisdom of One Condemned To Death The post The Answer appeared first o ..read more

Under pretense of we a community is founded as defense against an unspoken fear, and that horror is transferred to the abject other, now negated––not people, but the walking dead. Where those ties might bind you get knotted pathologies instead, twisted clusters of defensive narcissisms woven into founding myths. Birth of a nation. The flags of fathers. The fathers dead, now get the children. Act fast. What compulsion. Repeat, loop, repeat. A regression to psychotic repression defined by disconnection from reality. With each return of this plague, the hold on the symbols that held us slips away ..read more

Caterpillar, rest. This is a blinking of the lights, a look beneath the hood of this machine beneath the metal sheen made to mask both barbarism and the wound within the hour of a common cry against its edge. After so long looking, eat the leaves of this knowing tree, spin a temporary shroud to wrap you tight against the ripening of your untried wings, their still untested flight. Behind them, may you sleep once fully through a night. The post The Precarities appeared first on Breadcrumbs ..read more

Long after ceilings are gone there is wailing in the rubble a direct line to sky but walls remain to pen the mourning from where the veil split over torn land, the ravaged prize suffocated in the taking and then indefinite arrivals forever mapped by absences blast holes in our sentences punctuated by lost words The post The Body Politic appeared first on Breadcrumbs ..read more

Sometimes I think I remember being something like light. How simple that may have been, with nothing to claim, not even memory––waving unfettered across eons of space, all shine and no substance. Mass is another experience, a potential that varies depending on the energy patterns of its particles which move more rapidly in confinement, and the context of their reactions to an outside force, unknown until until The post Solids appeared first on Breadcrumbs ..read more

Things were connected. That much we could tell. We squinted at the things. Later, we thought about the space between them: that connective tissue we called nothing then, all now. The post Detail Work appeared first on Breadcrumbs ..read more