(
via / me )
Bloom.
“Substance abuse is in a polyamorous relationship with emotion and climate change.”
—@magicrealismbot
"I’m not saying it was OK to tear them down. I’m saying that since it’s happening, we might as well face the fact that they weren’t perfect before, and now we can rebuild them."
“The One Thousand Days
There is the mourning dish of salt outside
My door, a cup of quarantine, saucerless, a sign
That one inside had been taken down
By grieving, ill tongue-tied will or simple
Illness, yet trouble came.
I have found electricity in mere ambition,
If nothing else, yet to make myself sick on it,
A spectacle of marvelling & discontent.
Let me tell you how it came to this.
I was turning over the tincture of things,
I was trying to recollect the great maroon
Portière of everything that had ever happened,
When the first first stopped its transport
& the weather ceased to be interesting.
Then the dark drape closed over the altar
& a minor city’s temple burnt to ground.
I was looking to become inscutable.
I was longing to be seen through.
It was at slaughtering, it
Was at the early stain
Of autumn when the dirt-
Tinted lambs were brought down
From the high unkempt fields of Sligo, bidden.
Unbidden, they came down.
It was then that I was quit
Of speech, a thousand northbound nights of it.
Then was ambition come
Gleaming up like a fractured bone
As it breaks through the bodiced veil of skin.
I marry into it, a thistle on
The palm, salt-pelt on
The slaughtering, & trouble came.
That the name of bliss is only in
The diminishing–as far as possible–of pain.
That I had quit the quiet velvet cult of it,
Yet trouble came.”
—Lucie Brock-Broido in Daedalus
Anachuttle.
