Dangerous Compassions

we belong to the earth

I want to sing this song, lately.

I’m working on poems, all the time.  Love it–hat genius 22 sun pump.

A new issue of functionally ill, number 29.  I have one 28 with totally finished text but waiting on art.  And then 29 that I’m writing.

I have this zine about music I started.  I was messaging a friend about songs as rituals and went off on some ideas that are really important to me that I never talk about.  So that feels good.

I have a fish letters all written, and I even have the art–I just need to find the art.

I have a new special treehouse for fat people.  I have art for that too, already, somewhere.  It’s just a bunch of drawings of naked ladies.  I want to do more of them.

I have some projects that are simmering on the back burner.  A book I need, an ocean zine, a second vegan cookzine.  This funny poem Ming said he’d draw funny pictures for, but he hasn’t.  A death zine I’m supposed to be writing with Ming.  My safeword was always safeword.  A ritual zine.  A book compilation of some zines.  A new Resisting Capitalism for Fun.  A new Lost Child, honestly.

Yeah, too many zines.  Hmm.  Maybe I should sell a franchise?  Yuck.

I need to ride my trike.  Thanks for being my reader.  Love to everyone, today.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *