In the future, children will think our ways are strange. "Why do old people always grow so much milkweed in their gardens?" they'll say. "Why do old people always write down when the first bees and butterflies show up? Why do old people hate lawn grass so much? Why do old people like to sit outside and watch bees?"
We will try to explain to them that when we were young, most people's yards were almost entirely short grass with barely any flowers at all, and it was so commonplace to spray poisons to kill insects and weeds that it was feared monarch butterflies and American bumblebees would soon go extinct. We will show them pictures of sidewalks, shops, and houses surrounded by empty grass without any flowers or vegetables and they will stare at them like we stared at pictures of grimy children working in coal mines
Forugh Farrokhzad, tr. by Sholeh Wolpé, from “Reborn”, Sin
landscape with a blur of conquerors, richard siken
Rosario Castellanos, tr. by Julian Palley, from Meditation on the Threshold: A Bilingual Anthology of Poetry; “Kinsey report”
“You are worth finding. Worth knowing. Worth loving. You and all your one million layers. Always hold that close.”
— Danielle Doby
Just create the thing you want to create. Because who's going to stop you? Oh, it's you yourself? Well you can't let that bastard win, can you?
“She has the feeling, all her life, that she never makes sense. There is something else, big and dark, at the edge of what she knows, she cannot say. She always has the feeling she is translating into broken english. Language all her life is a second language, the first is mute & exists.”
Sharon Thesen, Mean Drunk Poem
Good morning, you have to be the thing that saves you
Ellen Bass, "The Thing Is"