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I spit on the hall where I live–I spit into the future hour
and walk into the grocery store
and think I am dying as they are dying–
with their fake cleavages and fake fingernails and fake-colored hair–that cheap
down the beer aisle
I follow the lavenders in their hair
and spit on the lot as I exit
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In her new book, Danish poet Olga Ravn writes with open love, pity, and compassion for her strange yet familiar creations.
Draconian individual punishment distracts from systemic change and reinforces the cruelest and most racist system of incarceration on the planet.
Our well-being depends on a better understanding of how the logic of labor has twisted our relationship with pleasure.