i remember last summer, when it rained the most horrendous rain in Brooklyn, which coincided with the poets coming to my apartment and B wanted a haircut and S gave them their haircut on my porch, and the rest four or five of us flashed lights and cheered them on—and i have forgotten why i am mentioning this at all—just that S decided (read: insisted) on documentation and, when we met later, they told me this is something that they do now.
!واہ
I felt the destitution in this one but also the power.
thank you!
the shoutout... tears.
i did it for my first post lmaooo but have totally forgotten how