More Salish art and a poem resulting from what the postcard fest instructions suggested since year 1, that is “something of the here and now” should/could get into the poem. That’s what postcards are after all, no? My ongoing battle with dehydration and the fest as respite from life in pre-crash USAmerican empire are also recurring themes of the work.
“the poem reveals
its own
suppleness”
in gray Autumn
waning
the face
of my interconnected
self
traversed
by spiders
on two sides
of the glass