I know I'm usually the one urgently warning everybody of the dangers of nuclear holocaust, climate chaos and plutocratic tech dystopia, but there's one disaster I keep seeing people worrying themselves about which absolutely will not happen. I'd like to take a minute to set
Singing on the Deer Docks
They mostly leave me alone
because my face is badly scarred
and my voice is tattered and frightening.But every once in a while
someone asks me, why?
Why do you sing here day after day
on the deer docks where the black seagulls laugh?
Why do you
US oligarchs: Russia hacked our election.Public: Uh oh! What should we do about it?US oligarchs: Greatly inflate the military budget, sanction US rivals, and censor dissenting opinions.Public: Umm
Come dusk a frumpy woman
well past the age of societal worth
emerges from wherever we'd been hiding her
to watch the fire imps frolic on the telephone wires.She sits unassumingly
(the only way she knows how),
and listens to the screech bats awakening."We are always dancing on the
"Reminder that there are two kinds of Trump-Russia stories: those we pay attention to because they serve a narrative, and those we ignore because they don't," tweeted The Real News' Aaron Maté yesterday in response to the news that the Trump administration had authorized the sale of
Here We Stand Naked and Dauntless in the Junkyard
I told him my womb was scarred from births and cruel men.
He told me his flesh had been whipped by monsters.We grew eyestalks and earstalks and went out to the Dune Boons
where old boat and train bones
I know, I know. My readers hate it when I spend energy responding to establishment smears about me; you want my energy and creativity going toward debunking propaganda and pointing to the machinations of the empire. I get it, I really do.But these smears (and
You are a big fish in a small pond.No, that's wrong.You are a big fish in a small fish tank.
A celestial leviathan at the apex of evolution
imprisoned in an artificial box that was manufactured in a sweat shop.We are gods in cages
made of insurance
I love Americans. I get friendly flak from some of my more jaded lefty readers whenever I say that, because having to deal with the flaws of one’s own countrymen is a very different experience than appreciating them from afar, but I do. I insist
We could only hide our leaf wings for so long.
One day a man sneered at an old woman on a bus in Ballarat,
and she said, “You’re not fooling anyone, Gaia.”
Suddenly great wings with leaves for feathers burst from his jacket,
and from the back of