August 3, 2026
Gutters gush uncaring of their
insufficience, unaware of what
they drop, proud
to direct what they can. Spillage
drains down bricks, dumps
and drips, splatters asphalt
wreckage, failures of
bent systems built for nowhere
near this spewage. But the gutters
go on unafraid, clinging
to the eaves, accepting what
they can hold, letting the rest
overflow.
love notes
a ritual to start the week