‘I see the trig point fallen on its side,
triangular top, long foundation, like a broken tooth,
no longer the highest point on the hillside.’

“From prophesying an apocalypse, I’ve come to live inside of one – and I’ve tried to make something beautiful of it.”

As an animist, the consciousness of trees is a given, but there is still a question about what that consciousness is like and how to interact with it.

G: But what about the Good Shepherd?
M: That’s an oxymoron

Under white birch trees.

In front of a fire.

Let that lightning untie all knots in my veins.

Are we awakening from this nightmare
or have we been asleep too long?

To attack a road is a profound assertion

Of the local

Three poems celebrating the hazel catkin as a harbinger of spring.

Vestiges will linger while we pace and wait.

Generations died before the serfs were made to kiss the wheel,

Strap their twisted backs upon the clock and hammer glowing steel.

Slowly we'll relearn the right to sleep in late,

“One day sleep will be a haven, not a heartbreak.”

“Because the heavy fist of terror was always there in your pocket even when you smiled. Because you went forth to battle beneath the shameful flag of compromise and played The Battle Hymn of the Republic but never John Brown’s Body.”

If all that is true, Mother, how do you read the news?

If the media is out for its own interests,

Its benefactors and the status quo,

If the news does not give us the truth,

As you seem to uphold,

How do you know what to believe?

Nodens, Nudd, Nuadha,

Raise the silver hand!

Wake the healer, gird the hunter

By the sea strand.

“I’ve lived this life between. Not one, but two. My feet have walked in dream and stepped in blood. I’ve flown so far I know the music of a distant star, and I have slept in mud.”

Sip, and plot your destiny.

MAAM is destined to be remembered as one of the towering and major literary figures of the 20th century, and indeed since the very inception of Spanish letters.

Our eyes are wild. Our hair is unbound. We are aware of the enormity of the task that lies before us, and we are quite prepared to do our part. We are the witchcraft. And we shall overcome.

Your military doesn’t colonize for me,

The people on the streets fight for me

Sojourner Truth, come lead us please,

Out of the dark canyon of fear.

We are beset by enemies,

We want you for our brigadier.

Raise thy snuffling snout;

Raise, cast about,

Enrage and grunt

O bristled screamer