( miekal and on fb / via )

Big Wednesday.

“They fall asleep and dream
of muffled corridors,
greenish glow
along the edges of mirrors, faces, cities.
Snow spins over it, down over it all.”

(Anne Carson) via @dreamsofbeing_

What our fish ancestor saw that make them want to leave the ocean .

feral westering glim
storm of forebodings
not my problem
but it is
interrupts my breakfast
to gloomily ponder wrongs
the last century laid to rest
to ponder
lacunae
in a sun that never sets

"There's something terrible about reality but I don't know what it is."