"Year of the Amateur."
"Recall the frontier inside us when the business of memory
booms.
When broad bands uncoil and clouds
swell with sticky portals, amassing
to a monsoon of live streams.
Burn your chattel to keep the cloud afloat,
so its tears can freeze to snow.
The voice flat lines in this season of pulp.
The artist makes miniature churches out of drain pulp.
The Indonesian rainforest is pulped.
The last illuminated gold leaves are pulped.
So we gather and watch an otter nibble sweet urchin to a pulp.
We laugh softly.