Untitled (Blue, Green, & Brown): oil on canvas: Mark Rothko: 1952 | Ocean Vuong

The TV said the planes have hit the buildings.
& I said Yes because you asked me to stay.
Maybe we pray on our knees because the lord
only listens when we’re this close
to the devil. There is so much I want to tell you.
How my greatest accolade was to walk
across the Brooklyn Bridge & not think
of flight. How we live like water: touching
a new tongue with no telling
what we’ve been through. They say the is sky is blue
but I know it’s black seen through too much air.
You will always remember what you were doing
when it hurts the most. There is so much
I want to tell you—but I only earned
one life. & I took nothing. Nothing. Like a pair of teeth
at the end. The TV kept saying The planes…
The planes…& I stood waiting in the room
made from broken mocking birds. Their wings throbbing
into four blurred walls. Only you were there.
You were the window.

(Source: triquarterly.org)

today the rain is everywhere so we sit inside and read poetry.

Kristoffer Diaz's "To the Mountaintop" Speech

Inclusion isn’t a finish line. It’s a process.
It’s like a marriage. Or raising a kid.
You decide that it matters to you, and you want it to work, and then you bust your ass to make to make it work.”

What a cool dude saying important stuff about theatre.