The globe I have has an ugly, brown scar near the coast.  I’m pretty sure it knows things.

I was supposed to post this yesterday, but anniversaries be damned.

4/21/11.  The oil is still here, along with the dispersant, dying animals, sick people, and a threatened way of life and living.



She came with curves, and we gave her great, dark linear cuts.  No less beautiful in her morning dress.  The ragged, soggy, drowning edges of earth as seen from

New Orleans to Houston through a

Holga, in

December, 2010.