“Was not their mistake once more bred of the life of slavery that they had been living?—a life which was always looking upon everything, except mankind, animate and inanimate—‘nature,’ as people used to call it—as one thing, and mankind as another, it was natural to people thinking in this way, that they should try to make ‘nature’ their slave, since they thought ‘nature’ was something outside them” — William Morris

Monday, July 30, 2012

Another Poem by Claire, Aged 8

I am the wind turning the pages of forgotten time.
I am the voice of the secrets
Flowing from the mouth of a simple person.

--beat that, motherfuckers!