A year ago, I put forward Ferguson Township’s resolution to act on climate change. Then in June 2017, we adopted Resolution 2017-14 (read the text here). We recognize that our well-being and the health of the interconnected web of being depends on the stability of the climate we’ve inherited. Its stability requires that we draw down … More Is there more to be done? Oh you bet. But in Ferguson, we’re acting on climate change.
POTD #11: Forest world is word New named man hears the howlers rising with the sun A canopy of silhouettes. River water splashes. Caiman stalks the capybara. Unblinking anaconda waits. New named man knows his brothers, wears their wares, models their gaits, for ancestry lives in the hallowed wold. The word for world is forest … More PotD #11: Forest world is word.
PotD #10: A Notice on the Beach Don croons over the thudding din of gin: “Don’t look back. You can never look back.” These tattered thoughts of little profit as you tell me I’m beating on against the current, like some [statement omitted for anonymity] bearing ceaselessly into the past, [statement omitted because it doesn’t … More PotD #10: A Notice on the Beach
POTD #9: The Flood (revised) We genuflected before the Yough’s ceaseless turbulence and the Blackwater whose falls bellowed and vomited over the precipice, crashing the silence with unremitting violence. Those were the days before the orange-faced carney screamed about American carnage on Pennsylvania Avenue, pissed on the Bill of Rights, wiped his ass with the … More POTD #9: The Flood (revised again…quite significantly)
PotD #6: Cinders in the Gloaming Lightning splits the parched air, drier than since the ancients walked ridgelines cobbled by eons of wear. The conflagration bellows and rends the ancestors asunder. It thrusts worry into her nose, lungs, and belly. Terror spews from the mouths of the beasts on two legs, their children spitting cinder … More PotD #6: Cinders in the Gloaming
POTD #5: The Flood (revised) The flood strips soil, roils brown waters saturated with brine and invective. The flood yanks boulders, heaves and hews them. The flood rises, tears hemlocks, uproots rhodies and a stern sycamore that bursts the door. The flood pours through windows across the floor and sweeps away the heartwood, our bed … More POTD #5: The Flood (revised)
PotD #4: PROUD COUNTRY OF ANGRY PEASANTS the trees are preparing winter’s cover setting out the russet yam and pallid lemon quilt, the funereal garb lain down from stream to ridge winds gust over the tight hills across fields scars baskets clear cuts cornucopia wounds and gifts. a murder of bothered crows harangues a … More PotD #4: PROUD COUNTRY OF ANGRY PEASANTS