Magnet
Torn through bone and flesh, This heart that swelled awake and started beating rhythm for my breath When it felt the tug, electro-magnetic, Now wrenched out of space and time. It hears the call of its master, mercilessly pulled To narrow halls, stuffed birds, spinach mash and evensong. To...
What’s wrong with navel-gazing anyway?
Some people use the accusation of “gazing at your own navel” to dismiss a self-exploratory mental exercise as useless, self-indulgent, narcissistic, or worse, primitive. Something an ape might do. But an ape doesn’t ruminate as we do, not about its navel or anything else, and so I reject that characterization. [Read More]