More Salish art and a poem resulting from what the postcard fest instructions suggested since year 1, that is “something of the here and now” should/could get into the poem. That’s what postcards are after all, no? My ongoing battle with dehydration and the fest as respite from life in pre-crash USAmerican empire are also recurring themes of the work.
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“the poem reveals
its own
suppleness”
in gray Autumn
waning
the face
of my interconnected
self
traversed
by spiders
on two sides
of the glass