On the one hand, I am on day two of a lancing headache and a concomitant amount of sleep. On the other, it has been raining all afternoon as though it plans to keep on doing it, my mother now has six monarchs in chrysalis and eight more caterpillars busily eating their way through the latest milkweed, a map has been found to the Drowned Hundred, and the sonification of a black hole sounds like whalesong by Delia Derbyshire.
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- 1: I am bound to these shores, I'll be bound till the end
- 2: Wish everyone could hear when she sings
- 3: All the ghosts, some old, some new
- 4: I cannot feel it, the veil of black, a fine spray of white paint
- 5: I make sure there are hidden messages in my work
- 6: I'll stay out until my mind is like a clear glass
- 7: The wind is blowing the planes around
- 8: Pilgrimage, private life, mortality
- 9: My dream house is a negative space of rock
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