It's a special kind of pain. Like your heart is nauseous and fevery and suffocating all at once. But mixed with moments of almost-numb pins and needles prickliness. At specific sunsets it seems not worth the toll to squash this certain sadness. And so I feel. I count myself lucky-once-removed if there are friends around … Continue reading Lucky-Once-Removed
It's like alchemy. Except gold is just shiny, and this stuff can grow food. I'm not the only one around here who digs it. I've been getting more and more requests from people who want to hop on the compost train. It's lucky cuz I think about compost a lot. It's inspiring stuff. By the way, here's a poem :
"BaTaata, I'm trying to think of how to make people understand, people like me where I came from, that we need to be responsible. That we need to make big changes, political changes."
I started playing with words while studying vocab today and accidentally wrote my first poem in Tonga. It's probably chock full of grammatical errors but I'll just claim poetic license. Unfortunately I can't figure out how to insert audio I recorded, but here's Tonga text, followed by rough English translation: Cilotoyota Ndalikulota kuti ndalikuyota … Continue reading A compost fever dream