Milpa Madre
“They caressed me, that is all I know.” Ours is a city of many voices, of histories and prophecies continually coming together and parting ways again. At times the narrative … Continue reading
Where Books are Loved
My house is on my back. Under silks and shoes, sheathed in Stained but still-supple leather, I slowly take my step. Streets shift and sparks surround my patient pace. But … Continue reading
Non-linear Ecology
It is tempting to view history as we do a text: unspooling behind us in a comprehensible narrative flow, with one sequence following another, tones and tenors shifting but all … Continue reading
What is the Word
What is the word That you have searched for for All of these years, Hiding plainly in spheres And staring you right in the eye? How might we articulate such … Continue reading
Paturage
The Sun is ripe for harvest and the spiral branch that holds it aloft is bending and breaching from keeping it up —There: day breaks— Cloudy brambles fall away and You … Continue reading
New Strings
In the crisis of creation of Every hallowed home the seed that spored true nations— phantasms and birdsong and the avenued rush of a light’s last auto and forests with … Continue reading
On Solid Ground
The neighborhood we now call Battery Park City, just to the north of the old Battery on Manhattan’s southwest tip, is unlike any other portion of our island. Though it … Continue reading
daydream, inc. 