I’m especially happy that today at @marrow_of we get to release a new short piece, drawing on GIS mapping work I’ve done to understand the threat that new mining concessions pose to biodiversity in Ecuador. #JusticiaLosCedros#bosquessinminería
@UehlingLab Nice! We're shopping for a mycology cabinet for the local collection here at the Port of Miami right now... What manufacturer did you go with?
There's something about idea of a pigeon grinning that really hooks me... what does THAT look like? How can it be such a visceral image, while simultaneously being completely impossible?
I raise my eyes to his, see patchy feathers grey,
Opaque orbs brim-full, with what I cannot say.
“I have not lost my mind?”, the query ‘scapes my lips.
The #pigeon only grins, and dances on the bricks.
Away from them I run; they follow as if blown.
I slip in #pigeon dung, slick-white upon the stone.
They settle all around me, on the asphalt prone,
A thousand staring birds I wish I could disown.
When next I leave my hovel, they cover e’ry wall,
#Pigeons perched and waiting, watching me withal.
A thousand beady eyes, a thousand curséd stares,
Their calls echo round the ruined public squares.
My stomach full to wincing, empty feeling still,
My head full and twisting, I spit the pigeon’s bill.
The words echo in my mind: vivid hallucination,
Or something darker yet, my long-sought ruination?
“Shattered man, last of man, empty-broken hollow man;
You are the hope of #pigeons, the end of what’s began.
“You are our only—”, but I didn’t hear the rest,
With shaking wretched hand, I did end the bird’s request.
Rumbling metal brute, prompts me skit and scurry;
Bloody feathered fist, home to eat I hurry.
Crouching in my borrow, safe ‘tween shattered walls;
I raise the twitching #pigeon, which looks at me and calls:
Every day I’m passing #pigeons, flattened in the street;
Every day I’m passing #feathers, gots nothing else to eat.
Jumping shade to shadow, darting quick and fleet;
Peeling feathered bodies, crushed and ruined meat.
The world’s dark and empty, full o’ roaring beasts;
Rolling metal monsters, upon the weak they feast.
I follow in their tracks, hiding when they come;
I pick the scattered leavings, my empty belly numb.