only normal things happen in opera
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seen from Macao SAR China
only normal things happen in opera
Deep South
Hand in dark river-
Oil on top
From the mill
My kin call savior.
It easy to see now
That the poor here
Have no saver.
Pull the line up
With calloused hands-
Cruel cruel father
But he was a hard working man.
Lungs full of lime dust,
You can hear it when they talk-
I know more burn victims
Than I ever did of love.
Dirty south
Know now how they see us-
Teach the boys how to profit
Off of blood
And show the daughters how to be less.
Fields or mills or hospital rooms,
There isn’t much to do here
But the youth can make do.
Jugs out of boat
See them bob
And think of truth.
Breaking down bodies
As they can only speak of service-
Work until deaths door
But best believe fed mouths
Are worth it.
We’ve all got stories here-
Of family lost to addiction
Or disease or fear.
Bones stacking up
Taller than statues of confederates-
Misinformation spreading
Like a disease that has ate restlessness.
And don’t get me started
On the lies that are fed in this-
Bass in the boat,
Fighting for what’s left of it.
Uncles losing hands
And fathers of fathers
Fighting for ease
From needless wars in foreign lands.
There is no pride here truly,
But dancing in survival-
The most beautiful music
Played from street corners
And people with eyes low.
Don’t tell me of resilience
Till you’ve tasted the honey
Of sleep after working until arms are weak-
When there are mothers
Forgoing food so that the babies can eat.
States full of policies
For the few that will profit
And the ones that will fall for it.
We’re the uneducated surely,
The lesser, the misknown.
But there is something beautiful
In this flooded, long drenched home.
How community finds it’s way
In places not meant-
Like truth of human kind,
Pack built, long spent.
Life after storm,
Matters not who you are-
Hardship and hate sure,
But warmth and love filled arms.
Scaled bodies up for grabbing,
Fill the needy and the hungered-
Gutted fish and children laughing,
See the boat up on the launch.
Some UDAD Orpheus art. Ohh hes so goated with the sauce in my heart. hes like a meow meow to me really
yk im not sure i believe that whole "they were dead before the story began" thing. i think they're alive because the story keeps beginning
Listen. If you die and come back to life, that’s transgender. You’re transgender now.
WH
I might not run like I used to
And some days movement feels real hard-
But I still dance on the good days,
And skip like childhood in my heart.
Won’t let tiredness be the downfall
In my happiness at breath,
Gotten a bit better about resting
And focusing on intent.
It is difficult come Monday morning
To accept what I can’t change,
But by Thursday I am set
On humming through the pains.
I’ll tell you all the difference
That has been made in what I see,
To take aches as communication
Instead body failing me.
But there’s movement in the listening
Feel the rhythm of the music,
And I think I’ll get back to playing-
Something about creation
Makes energy worth paying.
And isolation is much harder
Now that I know the touch of care-
I flinch and I still furrow
But have community that I thought rare.
Lifting up the moments
That I can lift nothing at all,
And filling up the space
When I feel inconsequential and small.
Know me for my trying,
I’ll surely fuck up and swear a lot.
But finally thankful I’m not dying
And sifting through the rot-
Of everything that they taught me
About who’s allowed to acknowledge pain.
I am no big savior to the masses
But am surviving through the day.
That’s a fact now to be proud of,
Even when I feel small-
Yes I bleed much but I laugh more,
And that’s the lesson to it all.
“ your thick skull has kept you safe for so long” omgggg cruellllllllll wtf