And-what-do-we-call-the-Mother-with-her-eyes-shut
True-form-of-the-night-of-time
Our-daily-life-creates-our-symbols
Wrenching-trees-from-the-roots
Sweeping-all-from-the-path
Accept-bravely-thine-own-darkenss
Swirl-up-the-mountain-waves-to-reach-the-pitchy-sky
Lovers-of-storm-and-stress
-Lovers-of-life-and-storm
As-the-ocean-through-an-empty-shell
No-question-of-fruits-no-question-of-action
To-scatter-all-with-lavish-hand
As-the-rose-blossoms-within-the-soul
And the stone word fell
On my still-living breast.
Never mind, I was ready.
I will manage somehow.
Today I have so much to do:
I must kill memory once and for all,
I must turn my soul to stone,
I must learn to live again—
Unless… Summer's ardent rustling
Is like a festival outside my window.
For a long time I've foreseen this
Brilliant day, deserted house.
Dog Rose
w/ Johanna Blank, Morgan Ritter, Iko & Matt Machado, Alice Fiorelli, Anton N. Halla,
6footstranger, Brayden van Meurs, Angelika Vardalou
Curated by Torre Alain, Leif Zhang
Poem by Anna Akhmatova
With special thanks to Sri Mariamman Kovil