The Buzz

In tropics, it grows. Legal stimulant, production shrouded with corruption, so that farmers suffer, hipsters profit. Earth grunt

I quit my job last week so I’m finding way more time and inspiration to write. This piece purposefully reads slightly abstract. It’s up for interpretation. Isn’t that the fun of poetry?

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Words

I’ve had a busy month, no time to post. But I’m back again with a poem about the power of words. Words will not be enough but no one thing will ever be. It’s all connected: our struggles, our liberation, and our future.

What are words?

In the poetics of

Theory?

How do I fight

with the only weapon I know.

Words strung across

Crossbows.

Fires brim at the

Fingertips

turns into arrows

to light a path

towards heavy explosions

shake my body

souls tremble

feels like liberation spilling

through my veins

through words.

What are words?

In the theory of

Poetics?