Hi from me in my bathroom and this wild poem I’ve finally memorized in its entirety. Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front, by Wendell Berry.

Don’t mind my pauses as I find my place in the poem—and note, I get one word wrong at the end (should be: the fox who makes more tracks than necessary). But this poem is rewiring my brain. I love having it in my mental back pocket.

Here’s to false trails and not computing and resurrection, yeah?