It’s not the pain or
loss or tragedy. It’s the
unending of it.
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death
GUEST SUBMISSION – “Martin Manley, Perhaps”
by Dan DiPiero
When I have left, don’t
force the issue–
let me go like so many seeds
Dry Rot
Days are sturdy, slow
Working hard to keep balanced.
Soon, my insides boil.
And surely they breathe the air
of their own decay; in/out.
Pacing Yourself is Imperative, Difficult
Some things are drawn out:
death and likely other ends.
Trying to slow down.
Theodore Jones Harris-Burgoyne
My dog passed yesterday. He was thirteen years old. Its a weird thing to watch the life of a being begin and end. I’m feeling heavy on it and I’m not sure of what to say. He was my guy and now he’s gone and a part of the big, grand IT. Lots of love to and from.
School is Perpetual – So is Chaos and Coffee Consumption and Plant Growth (Hopefully).
Winter quarter was
lulling me into bored death.
Over. Start over.
