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Abelard and Heloise activism Americana animals arts astrolabe astronomy baseball writing biology cartography cemeteries chronology comfort dance death destruction deviance domestic violence education epidemeology Europe fairy tales family feminism festivities forensics fucking funerals geneology girl stuff happiness history holidays Hunter S. Thompson iconography journalism local color love poetry medicine muse museums non-fiction Ohio ornithology pandemics performance poetic theory punk red hair in the morning, fucker grab a cab relationship studies religion religious studies reproductive rights rituals science seasons shooting stars society sociology Southern Gothic The British Royal Crown tomes travel writing Urban Legends war weddings womens studies writing

she kept her honor

so he took her like an animal

but my father’s ghost wept

so she went to the men

like a good American

good people don’t want to believe

in visionaries good or bad

especially when you have red clay mud

starved stabbed scabbed over and over

on your grandmother’s dress from being raped just like her

from ft. Sumter to Wounded Knee

he’d never seen that color red come out of a living fertility statue

my veil is torn

the dog is dead

the natives have resumed their drumbeat

Categories
Abelard and Heloise activism affectation Americana Anne Boleyn Art astrolabe astronomy atheism baseball writing battle beauty belief books California cartography cemeteries childhood Christmas chronology cinema civility coffee comedy comfort communication confections crime criminal behavior dance death desserts destruction deviance digital art digital photography divinity domestic violence ecology education electoral process English epicuriosity epidemeology Europe fairy tales feminism festivities film forensics fucking funerals furniture geneology geography girl stuff good reads government government and a lack thereof gratitude happiness health Hell history holidays horror human behavior humanity humor Hunter S. Thompson iconography infidelity insects Jazz journalism Kentucky kindness kinetics Lent life literature local color love love poetry mindfulness mortuary sciences mourning muse mythology nature nightmares non-fiction ornithology pandemics papyrus parenting Paris performance photography physics poetic theory poetry politics pop culture produce psychology public broadcasting publishing punk puppies reading red hair in the morning, fucker grab a cab relationship studies relationships religion religious studies reproductive rights rituals romance science science writing self-care self-love sex sexism sexuality shitty shit shooting stars Short Stories slang society sociology Southern Gothic Southern Living suicide technology thanatology the arts The British Royal Crown theatre theism theology tomes traditions travel writing Uncategorized Urban Legends vice war waste weddings womens studies words writing

Ha!! Me, too…

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=pfbid0z6wE5HbvqNR3e95MtKuSoizDLWB4WQy8ZjS2t8TEJqVyeZJLzaZutYfqzP29mKP5l&id=100086436902392

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Abelard and Heloise activism Americana animals Anne Boleyn astrolabe astronomy baseball writing battle beauty belief bibliophilia biology books botany California cartography cemeteries childhood Christmas chronology cinema civility coffee comedy comfort communication confections corsets crime criminal behavior dance death desserts destruction deviance digital art digital photography divinity domestic violence drawing ecology education electoral process English epicuriosity epidemeology Europe fairy tales family fashion fauna feminism festivities fiction film food forensics fucking funerals furniture geneology geography girl stuff good reads government government and a lack thereof gratitude Halloween happiness health Hell history holidays human behavior iconography Jazz journalism kindness kinetics Lent life literature local color love poetry medicine mindfulness mortuary sciences mourning muse museums Music mythology nature non-fiction Ohio ornithology painting pandemics papyrus parenthood parenting Paris performance photography physics poetic theory politics pop culture produce psychology public broadcasting publishing punk puppies reading red hair in the morning, fucker grab a cab relationship studies relationships religious studies reproductive rights rituals romance science science writing seasons self-care self-love sex sexism sexuality shitty shit shooting stars Short Stories slang society sociology sociopathology Southern Gothic Southern Living suicide technology thanatology the arts The British Royal Crown theatre theism theology tomes traditions travel writing Uncategorized Urban Legends vice war waste weddings women words writing

Poof* Take MY water

https://youtu.be/eg2Kw1jIXOw

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activism art astronomy behavior belief cemeteries destruction ecology epidemeology humanity journalism life mindfulness mythology nightmares pandemics poetry politics pop culture punk science writing shooting stars technology travel writing writing

Does this look infected?

who knew

the 6th mass extinction

on the planet

would be set into motion

not by a furious comet

instead thrown into chaos

by an insidious cloud

of misinformation

(que piano music)

Categories
activism addiction affectation Americana art atheism baseball writing behavior belief cemeteries chronology civility divinity festivities fucking funerals geneology government government and a lack thereof happiness Hell history human behavior iconography insects Jazz kindness Lent literature local color love poetry medicine mourning nature nightmares non-fiction pandemics poetry politics pop culture psychology punk puppies religion Uncategorized

ATM

They

will sell you

candy cigarettes,

insulin,

Camel Wides,

chemotherapy,

God,

nicotine patches,

life insurance,

and a bronze casket

all

in one lifetime.

Categories
Americana analysis art Hell history holidays horror human behavior humanity journalism kindness life love mindfulness mourning muse mythology nightmares pandemics Uncategorized

ghost light

the moment he turned

and walked away

our world became peckinpah

i can no longer discern

whose blood

my hands are weeping over

Categories
Americana cinema civility coffee comfort dance death desserts destruction divinity domestic violence ecology electoral process English fairy tales family forensics fucking funerals geneology government and a lack thereof horror human behavior humanity humor iconography infidelity insects Jazz journalism kindness kinetics life literature local color love love poetry medicine mindfulness mortuary science mourning non-fiction ornithology painting pandemics parenthood Paris performance photography physics poetic theory poetry pop culture psychology publishing punk reading relationship studies rituals romance science science writing self-care self-love sex sexism sexuality shitty shit shooting stars Short Stories slang society sociology sociopathology Southern Gothic Southern Living suicide technology thanatology the arts theatre theism theology tomes traditions travel travel writing Uncategorized Urban Legends vice waste weddings womens studies words writing

Paris in the rain

a woman’s life

is too tenuous

delicate

billowy

spider web

close call on I-75

in preterm labor

on the way to the

Paris airport

in the rain

fragile

beautiful

precious

sacrosanct

finite

for bad friends

bad family

bad coffee

bad shoes

bad mattresses

bad jobs

bad husbands

bad debt

and bad dick

learn this by 30 for maximum

enjoyment

future

female

conquerors

of a dying planet

Categories
Americana art behavior belief corsets crime dance death desserts deviance fairy tales forensics fucking mourning mythology nature nightmares non-fiction pandemics poetry pop culture

it doesn’t work that way, cowboy

he expected me

to be true

though everything about him

was a lie

Categories
activism Americana analysis art baseball writing battle behavior belief cemeteries childhood chronology civility comfort corsets crime criminal behavior dance death destruction deviance divinity ecology education electoral process Europe fairy tales family feminism fiction fucking furniture geneology geography government government and a lack thereof happiness Hell history horror human behavior humanity humor iconography journalism Kentucky kindness kinetics literature local color love medicine mortuary science mourning muse museums Music mythology nature nightmares non-fiction Ohio ornithology painting pandemics papyrus parenthood Paris performance physics poetry politics pop culture psychology

of thee I sing

the true measure

of a civilized society

are the rumors

told by its ghosts

Categories
addiction Americana art ecology humanity nature nightmares pandemics religion science Uncategorized war waste

we have forgotten to call our mothers

as the ocean reclaims the land

and our comfort level with it

we will realize in a collective gasp

we have squandered

centuries of invention, blood, and privilege

with human conceit

.

we have wasted every memory

every idea

every love

by failing the planet

.

we have forgotten to call our mothers

as we were killing each other

over

unknowables

and inflexible

fallible

beliefs

.

don’t go crying to science

science tried to tell us long ago

.

so eat your nachos

and barbecued chemistry lab meats

cheer on your gladiator teams

as they bash their skulls together in a coliseum

enjoy the halftime performers as they twerk and bleat

 

live stream a diversion

drink your wine and craft beer from sustainable bottles

.

insert artisanal tampons made from the wool of

vegetarian  fed sheep

.

file your taxes

.

don’t you look pretty

with thicker, fuller lashes

drop your child off anywhere

so long as you don’t hear their screams

.

pay for neon sex

on the latest smartphone

with that one last good credit card

.

swipe the strip or insert the chip

but do it hard,

consumer culture,

more, baby, more

.

a civilization

blindfolded in agreement

and a few syphilitic mosquitoes

is all the next

mass extinction needs

 

 

.