BLOOD MOON ECLIPSE Two bats shadowing the bricks, leaves shaking silence like tissue paper. Our sun is a quiet thumb nudging the moon's arteries. We are blind, severed heads tumbled and lost among wax wings yellowing in corners of History's ever-expectant dustbin. A cycle begins again: this sun disappears, blood drains from its moon, more stars are born from darkness to light up our new, sixth world.
origin: Waban-Aki (Abenaki and Mi'k Maq), Mohawk and French, with some Irish and Swedish; one daughter, in
Seattle; 20 years living outside the US--based in Mexico; Anarchist in
the mold of Kropotkin, Zapata and Gramsci.