ransacked to the waist, hounded under gales. of black hair, eyes burdened with longing, you are left behind, the lyre in your hand. fretted with the chords of the sea. - andrew miller
sick of cute ceramics and meaningless figurative painting made for instagram and collages of trendy imagery under plexiglass and sculptures made with spray foam and martini cowboy medieval chainlink butterfly checkerboard i am sorry
autofiction about ny transplant being bored written by a twitter personality poetry chapbook about mangos by someone with one white cuban slaveowner great grandparent tv show about 20 something friends who are mean to each other expensive new popup restaurant with natural wine and foraged ramps by rich white 30 year olds that is for some reason supposed to be woke badly made diy fashion brands by the children of millionaires where every piece costs $1000 and is sloppily hand sewed renaissance fair instagram ambient synth astrology ap “decolonize goldman sachs” patreon podcast mullet
Ross Gay, from “Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude,” in Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude
[text ID: I am sorry. I am grateful.
I just want us to be friends now, forever.
Take this bowl of blackberries from the garden.
The sun has made them warm.
I picked them just for you. I promise
I will try to stay on my side of the couch.]