Before I arrived to this city, I could feel the depression in my fingertips. It made my fingers tingle. Sadness is the most alive emotion. It gets into your nerves. Its pulses feel like insects at the rim of your skin.
— Victoria Chang / “The Tree, 1964”
… we are heading into the peak of what you might call greenhouse season, when one can be sadly certain of hideous news. Right now we are seeing a heatwave of truly monstrous proportion across Asia—the temperature in New Delhi these past days has topped 120 degrees Fahrenheit for the first time in its recorded history.
— Bill McKibben / “Intensity” / Substack
We are constantly producing the past. We are factories for the past. Living past-making machines, what else? We eat time and produce the past. Even death doesn’t put a stop to this. A person might be gone, but his past remains. Where do all those heaps of personal past go?
— Georgi Gospodinov / Time Shelter
Experts say that by June parts of the city’s central valley could reach “day zero,” when there isn’t enough water to pump out to the city, even if the typical rainy season starts that month… The growing scarcity of water in several parts of Mexico is a bellwether of how worsening climate change may affect cities all over the world, experts say.
— Marina E. Franco / “Mexico City is running out of water, forcing many to ration” / Noticias Telemundo for Axios
In the middle of nightmares: certainly I have lived too long in an atmosphere of hatred.
Discipline propels me through the arid superstructure Insisting “stop and think, pick and choose”
— Laurance Wieder / “Water is the Mother of Ice”
… the combination of dropping oxygen levels, rising acidification and soaring ocean heat was also seen at the end of the Permian period about 252m years ago, when Earth experienced the largest known extinction event in its history, known as the Great Dying.
— Oliver Millman / “Oceans face ‘triple threat’ of extreme heat, oxygen loss and acidification” / The Guardian
I used to think depression was all around me, that I was within it. Now I see that it is always ahead of me. That it is in pieces, but it moves in a swarm.
— Victoria Chang / “The Tree, 1964”
What I’m Listening To:
He was a vampire whose time had come He was a vampire snowman who stayed up Stayed up to see the sun
Harpies, sharpies and scissors Obliterating collections into piles
Of pages triangular— Shards and screeds.
(Pursuit of knowledge agnostic)
Accretions of stalagmite letters Monticule in dead air
We are the whips cometh— goo goo goojoob!
What I’m Reading:
… if you run a lawnmower, look out — female cicadas are attracted to the noise and will flock to you. And no, the incessant din of the insects — which can be as loud as a jet engine — probably won’t cause temporary psychosis. It could actually help some people by temporarily masking tinnitus.
— Sumeet Kulkarni / “Why cicadas shriek so loudly and more: your questions answered” / Nature
His word, his breath, Are merely synecdoche — Ephemeral.
Nothing is true in the true Sense of the word.
He drifts on the Lethe, Intoxicated by water that transforms — A trip into languor — And never sets foot on the other shore.
What I’m Reading:
Once a dying woman said goodbye on Twitter right before she died. Sometimes I go onto the accounts of dead people and read their final posts. I listen to music while scrolling. The people singing in my ears are also dead. It is getting harder to be born and to vanish at once. Isn’t this what we all wanted anyway?
13 Ways of Looking at a Jabberwockbird(travel day redux)
1 A hot wattle thing of the new wave—a heel trestle tactician of new sex.
2 A treble tabernacle template … condolences!
3 Heathen tree table temple—tinplated condom.
4 The hot new textile and treetop heating tableau concluded. (normal tempos at operettas not included)
5 The necessary texture of watermarks and towropes. A trek of heaved temptation. (opiate condor fashion forward)
6 The advised necessary heaven tenancy. (refill the tablespoon of conclusion)
7 The hot heavyweight tremolo of the opossum conductor.
8 Thatcher and heckler tremor of the tablet conjectured and textured. (tendencies normalized going forward)
9 (a. – e.) Your waterspout trachea. Your tender tabloid resignation. Your conclusive and necessary thaw. Your hectare trench. Thee conduit opportunist.
10 A tendon that should be taboo.
11 Hedge proctor trend-setter, tendril tabulator, theatregoer waterspout in the guise of a chancellor of the exchequer.
12 Hedgehog trespasser—tenement confessor at default opposition.
13 As hot tether and heater treaty—a tempest as scheduled maintenance.
This transmission has concluded.
What I’m Reading:
When I put the moon in a poem, it quivers like a strobe light nearly out of batteries.
thee istsfor manity reader 