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Quieting my gaze invites a smoky aura from the aspen
—an augur for allowing
what can’t be anticipated.
An attentiveness to this world can excavate,
rather than fill,
the depths of my five senses.
An ear, as a cavity, might attune to its own empty space
and thereby grow more familiar with
the resonances in other absences.
Offering the existent world as mirror
to its inexistent other half, I watch
how this alters what comes into view.
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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.