( via / via )

Track your changes.

"my dreams, my works, must wait till after hell

I hold my honey and I store my bread
In little jars and cabinets of my will.
I label clearly, and each latch and lid
I bid, Be firm till I return from hell.
I am very hungry. I am incomplete.
And none can tell when I may dine again.
No man can give me any word but Wait,
The puny light. I keep eyes pointed in;
Hoping that, when the devil days of my hurt
Drag out to their last dregs and I resume
On such legs as are left me, in such heart
As I can manage, remember to go home,
My taste will not have turned insensitive
To honey and bread old purity could love."

--Gwendolyn Brooks via via @maryanncorbett.bsky.social

Inyenzi.

"Hey man is everything OK? I noticed your falcon doesn't seem to be able to hear you" --@johnattridge.bsky.social

Getting The Ax.