There were 60 million buffalo in America before 1492. By 1890 the population was reduced to 750. In 200, there were 360,000, but the majority of those are raised for slaughter. And to think they roamed the plains of the US freely and peacefully alongside the Native Americans…
The spirit likes to dress up like this: ten fingers, ten toes, shoulders, and all the rest at night in the black branches, in the morning in the blue branches of the world. It could float, of course, but would rather plumb rough matter. Airy and shapeless thing, it needs the metaphor of the body, lime and appetite, the oceanic fluids; it needs the body's world, instinct and imagination and the dark hug of time, sweetness and tangibility, to be understood, to be more than pure light that burns where no one is -- so it enters us -- in the morning shines from brute comfort like a stitch of lightning; and at night lights up the deep and wondrous drownings of the body like a star.
Inhumane farming practices weigh heavy on my mind. Hampton Creek Foods is a source of inspiration for me. Realizing that the industry egg business is both unsustainable and inhumane, the folks over at HCF invented “just eggs” and “just mayo” from pea protein. The thing is, they know no one is going to buy it if doesn’t provide the consumer her egg fix, so they have done a remarkable job of creating a texture and flavor very similar to eggs! And, no chickens had to suffer in dark, dirty quarters to provide your sunny side up. While we’re on the topic, if you have to eat eggs, go to your local farmers market and pick up some eggs from pastured hens. Not only are you supporting a better system, but you are also supporting your health. Pastured eggs have less cholesterol and saturated fat, while boasting much higher levels of vitamin A, vitamin E, beta carotene and the ever-treasured scavengers, omega-3s!!! Know your food.
Coming at an end, the lovers
are exhausted like two swimmers. Where
Did it end? There is no telling. No love is
Like an ocean with the dizzy procession of the waves’ boundaries
From which two can emerge exhausted, nor long goodbye
Coming at an end. Rather, I would say, like a length
Of coiled rope
Which does not disguise in the final twists of its lengths
But, you will say, we loved
And some parts of us loved
And the rest of us will remain
Two persons. Yes,
Poetry ends like a rope.
- Jack Spicer
A human being is a part of the whole called by us universe, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feeling as something separated from the rest, a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.
I do not mind living
like this. I cannot bear
living like this.
Oh, everything’s true
at different times
in the capacious day.
- Stephen Dunn