Imagine if you went outside
At 3am to watch the moon
And saw a man lurking in the
Dark by your car, would you
Flinch or ask him his name?
What’re you doin there fella?
You’d watch him run away in the
Dark night, dodging earth werms
Careening towards the horizon
To disappear like every destitute and
You’d wonder what it would be like
to be him - scared with a sharp knife.
Go fuck yourself with your atom bomb
I don’t feel good don’t bother me.
|—||Allen Ginsberg, America (via imnuclearwaste)|
The children’s picture atlas, Paul Hamlyn, 1965
Mulrich tendercorns on the ice lawns
of Aprils late frost, or snow cycle we
all mistake as horrible, when it really
helps the tuber growth of beets in
acid soils; the folly of brash decisions
this happy-mad year of cult agrarianism.
what are you doing