A Memo for the Techno Witches




To my sisters everywhere,

Sometimes in the bleepbloop 

of this day and age,

I forget 
we hail from the dust of the powerful
previously disassembled
quieted, pushed away

and set to fire.

I see us learning to surf new waves; technology has broadened our reach.
If we can
take a picture of us and the flowers,
say how good it feels,
and sing to the world in seconds,
then we can also
remember to recreate
all of our reasons for going on.


The shift is now.

The time has run out
for what's dead in us.

We, the leaves of the strongest medicine,
swim the hot water differently now. 

Our bodies remain 

as mirrors of the jungle floor.

The thriving 

and winding 

fiddlehead curls,

abandoned skins

of selves long gone

serve as reminders of our true nature,

designed to do 

what we've always done:
deliver the future 

Please reload