Abecedarian for a World Enflamed

Any way you look at it, it seems the world is
burning, that it is going up in flames, and it is. I
cannot unsee the ways we are awful to one another,
devouring one another in hatred, letting the thing
envelope us, blind us, and no making, no creating, no
fever dream will help; friends do, and generosity,
goodness even—not the woman in the store the other day,
heaving items past me, cutting me on line as if I were
invisible, even after I said, I’m on line here. It is hard
just to stay afloat in this world; you have to use all your
kindness, unravel it slow, like a small ribbon, a tender of
longing—long for the way it feels—the warmth of it!
Manifest that touch—it is emotional, evocative, yet
necessary. Every one of us is just pushing lines around,
operative, sure, in a way—we all get where we need to,
perhaps it is in writing or in craft, perhaps it sits in the
questions we ask ourselves: What is this life? Where is the
raw edge of these days? Who really knows. I don’t know. Just
start at the beginning; keep pushing those lines and see what
thrives within you, what percolates, what yearns for your own
undulating gaze; I imagine it will be bright, fresh, and lucid,
veritably, a way to step through the muddied past into the
wondrous days ahead. It isn’t all socially constructed; there are
extra ways to construct the world that lies within us. Ordinarily,
you might resist or persist, but don’t; take what you know and un-
zip it: the light is touching everything.

Read more from Issue 22.1.