Twilight of the Anthropocene
Trees didn’t have language before we arrived.
Or maybe they spoke Lizard.
In any case, we gave them the power of speech
as we extricated ourselves from them.
Nature has a lot of bad press,
mostly because it keeps trying to kill us
at least as often as we notice that coconuts will keep you alive
unless you’re allergic, and the winds and currents
will get you far past where you can paddle.
But don’t try that without the coconuts
or you’ll end up stranded halfway to Fiji,
drinking your own pee.
We’re like those bacteria that drown in their own waste.
Do those exist? They must. Maybe not anymore.
That won’t be a bad thing. I mean, it will be terrible,
and in some places it already is, but bad is something we invented.
The lion only knows she’s hungry or the animal was moving.
The human knows it’s poor, or loves novelty and convenience.
The human only wants to avoid traffic. The human is traffic.
The lake slumbers, shoreline curling in on itself.
No outlets; this is where water goes to retire.
The lake’s not doing so well in the Anthropocene.
Evaporation was enough, but now it becomes
the salty bones of it’s ancient self.
What’s ten thousand years, give or take,
when you’ve been dying for 3,000,000.
boat is surprisingly functional. still needs a name. attempting the crossing from Sausalito to Angel Island soon.
She’s going to be a boat. She’s going to need a name.
Packing the remake of warhol’s HORSE for LA. Get in the van…
Dutch threesome, whittle by jl, serpentine rock, clay pipe, lichen sample.
With the help of some friends, I recently completed a series of portraits in a derelict hotel in San Francisco. We had a party, listened to old records, drank fantastic cocktails, and tried not to fall through the crumbling staircase.
Installation shots courtesy of Kat Nyberg.
That was fun to make.
Not sure we can have another post after this one. Want it to stay on top forever.
Whittle by TC.
