A Memo for the Techno Witches

To my sisters everywhere,

Sometimes in the bleepbloop

of this day and age,

It's easy to forget we hail from the dust of the powerful, the previously disassembled quieted, pushed away

and set to fire.

As we surf new waves

technology has broadened our reach: if we can take a picture of ourselves in the flowers, sing how good it feels, and send it to the world in seconds, then we can also remember to recreate all of our reasons for going on.

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

The shift is now.

Time has run out for what's dead in us. Our bodies remain

as mirrors of the jungle floor.

The thriving


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.