Yesterday was an upsetting day when the trivial medium of Facebook became heavy, weighted in pretension. The stomach churns, acquaintances repel and are repelled.
Fuck all a ya'll, the guy said in that movie about the American pharmaceutical industry and Other.
Henry's foot doctor said, as he probed in his big toe, There's no certainty with this stuff, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
We were talking about the hysteria over the measles outbreak.
That's it, someone said, if you don't vaccinate your kids, you can't be my friend.
The luxury of feeling in control.
What else? I read a little blip on the Poetry Foundation website that resonated. Her poetry is generative, a poet said. Generative.
That's exactly it. I'll read and participate in what's generative, and I'll discard and dismiss what's not.