Paul Haeder: you see cracks in walls as art, terra cotta a glimmer of Taxco pottery earth of mother country a dream, sometimes fancy, you take shots of Don Julio not to stave asthma
Paul Haeder: here you are happy, I can tell even in the face of poverty, desiccated horses, feral children, you are engaged elixir is real
Paul Haeder: we expect daughters to lift above old gray men, tribes of combatants men old at two decades recalcitrant and know-it-all’s old seedless corn stalks desiccating in their own winds
Paul Haeder: Today, we are at the juncture where very little attention is paid to Japan and other places attempting to disseminate all the suffering the people of Fukushima underwent at the time of the meltdown.
Paul Haeder: waves move mountains water so “soft” yet over eons like titanium drill as continents fall tides mean more than a romance with Pacific or Caribbean