A Sunday, in a photo.

“White ppl were, and are, astounded by the holocaust. They did not know they could act that way.” James Baldwin

So tired of life hitting me. Bomb after unprompted bomb. So hard to write anything the last two days. So hard to read. My mind elsewhere, my blood in my feet. Waiting for a break in the clouds before the storm. Coffee and cigarettes, I’ll drink the ink and I’ll piss the words. Cause the tire must relent. The tire must absolve. The bombs will prove themselves inert. And my own fire will pour.