the moon my man

john wainwright

So changeable and we all love a girl with bangs. John Wainwright writes and wanes at Mirror Mosaic of Sounds. He loves a good ginko. Even when we cannot see him, celestial and magnetic, he seems somehow to be (t)here.

Betsy and I grow large with nerves, light with fright and hopeful of receiving you – just like our friend John – at a showing of Chosen Family for the Anywhere Theatre Festival. Hopefully by now, you have found the website, invited a friend, been held by an angel, developed a slight tic and are harnessing the moon. For we are harnessing the moon for you. The glow casts high and over the Cuckmere River valley. We are river people.

Thanks in advance, we had a real nice night.

It is from the progeny of this parent cell that we all take our looks; we still share genes around, and the resemblance of the enzymes of grasses to those of whales is in fact a family resemblance.

— Lewis Thomas

By Eleanor Jackson

Eleanor Jackson is a Filipino Australian poet, performer, arts producer, cyclist, writer, gal about town, feminist, freewheeler, and friend.

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