6 Marzo: Stomping boots

Days & Days

.

6 March

The pleasures of feeding
pigeons, big stomping boots
your first wiggly tooth 



.

2 March 

I reach noise 
saturation! Two 

donkeys in Plaza 
Baratillo, laden w/

concrete. Boys laugh
in a dry fountain.

I love when 
that guy the angel

shows up, dragging 
his extravagant 

white wings. J and F 
are playing queens.



.

1 March 2025

The lowest level of moral reasoning 
is you do or do not do something because of fear 
of punishment. The highest level is ontological,
you do this, come what may, because that’s who you are.
When I talk to [Name] on the phone, who is weary, and afraid, 
I remind her of her mother, chained to a local tree. 
What an impression that made on elementary school me! 
[Name] was embarrassed, but that tree was saved. 
This was in a time, in my country, when you wouldn’t saw 
through a person to saw through a tree. 
I assure [Other Name] of the ongoing freedom of the press, 
at the sorts of places that use document drops, 
The Intercept, ProPublica, et cetera. [Other Name] says: 
Well, they can just turn it off. Think of China. 
They own the tech, she says. They can just turn 
a website they don’t like off. It is this immaterial 
vastness to which we’ve willingly or not agreed. I ask 
[Third Name] on the phone: Is it all just a reaction 
to the scale and speed of globalism? People can’t handle it, 
it is too large, so they are hacking back to tribes, 
ground wars, to big country eats small country, 
and big (shriveled) men eat us all? I think of [Fourth name] 
my MAGA-flag-flying friend, with whom I keep a difficult 
but loving correspondence. I think of her sister, beloved,
who is rural, fat, and profoundly disabled, and my friend is good 
to her. These pitiable, rotten men would hate her 
sister, do, and would fail to see her beauty, which is infinite. 
From the Old English: deofelseoc. From the Old English: 
hellcniht. Or, Simone Weil, all day: “It may be 
that vice, depravity, and crime are nearly always, or even perhaps 
always, in their essence, attempts to eat beauty.” 



.

(And here's one, from CHROME OF IRIS, and 2021, back when I did not know some things.):

20 July 2021

I am all fucked up, listening to Abdullah Ibrahim.
So sad about Judee Sill’s overdose, I must stop matching socks and lie face down 
on the floor. It’s okay to never think about Jeff Bezos, or at least that practice hasn’t 
       harmed me much. 
I ask my children “Who is Elon Musk?” 
They make the distressed sounds of the merely half-brainwashed. 
Congratulations to the billionaires in space for figuring out the exact opposite 
of doing small things with great love.

.

P.S. Especially this Abdullah Ibrahim, h/t Nico.

Flowers in cans, San Miguel de Allende. Pic by me.