holiday on an antfarm, by james tate

They danced like programmed angels.

In Nature’s
most exclusive capitol
they danced
with domestic forethought.

I refuse to say anything dirty about them,
for mud is a fashion
not chosen by the wild ones.

// tags: ephemera

Previous post

gates’ ‘bloom and breathe’ is 10 years old I know I am getting old because today I realized that my music listening journey no longer has just two eras. For so long it was “then” and “now” —

Next post

my favorite albums of 2024 I feel like I started the year late; I didn’t seek out much music until about the halfway point. I don’t have 10 favorite albums, but I’m happy with