Mon Dec 16 2024

Mon Dec 16 2024

Up early as always. No dogs to walk these days. Doesn’t make things grim, not having them here, but I do miss them.

I woke up with my phone underneath me again. Flush against the middle of my back. I am always forgetting to charge it and running off into my day at fifteen percent. If it isn’t the phone one day, then it is the Apple Watch, or the Macbook, or the Apple pen, or the Airpods; all of these devices I rely on are working too hard to emulate their owner. Don’t start me on the charging the vapes. A poem to warm my cold electronic devices; from my dying electronic device:

Untitled

On the Island of Upolu,

in Sāmoa, where Ma is from

there is a place:

Vā e luaga o matagi.

The storm comes to breach,

but we send it back;

buffeted by our faith

alone.

We, the shielded,

divide each storm,

swallow them whole,

and then become them.