from BARDO

The stars are in our belly; the Milky Way our umbilicus.

Is it a consolation that the stuff of which we’re made

is star-stuff too?

– That wherever you go you can never fully disappear –

dispersal only: carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, oxygen.

Tree, rain, coal, glow-worm, horse, gnat, rock.

Roselle Angwin

Monday, 12 September 2011

the news from here in 100 words

Our stories: riffs on coming through, coming home, becoming. Riffs on fragmentation. On redemption. Riffs on love loss death. On staying alive. The search for power security status money drugs sex even violence all about being loved, being loveable, being able to love – or not. (Intimacy distorted makes killers of us all.) Outside the window the buzzard lifts off, tilts wings into the cloud. Here the hound lifts her muzzle, reads the wind, drinks only rainwater clotted with silt from the old terracotta pot. In Kenya a woman’s terrified for her life and there is nothing we can do. 

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