I was hoping a good night’s sleep would set me back up again, but I still feel lower than a mole’s basement. I can’t say lower than whaleshit any more because apparently that stuff floats. Oh science, how you wreck my poetic licence.
Settler words&music in S'ólh Téméxw, (leanpub.com/upsun) living where privilege meets precarity in MST country. she/her/they———– Novels: Midnite Moving Co., Upsun; Sweep Off Those Waves coming soon, Hair Sinister after that. —Restore All Indigenous Lands!