The Becoming.
Poems from a bathing house in Ukiah — forty days, one dog.
many of these poems were written in a small cabin in Ukiah, ten minutes from orr springs — on Wildia Brazill's fifty-five acres. a bathing house, once. many women had lived there before me — a daughter walking through a divorce, a grandmother healing. the bathing house kept taking women in.
i cleaned it myself. the mould, the rat piss, the cobwebs. i'd rather have mould in the cabin than mould in my heart.
i spent more than forty days there, with luka — who loves without keeping score. i went there to be alone. i came back awake.
Is the belonging the becoming,
or the becoming the belonging?
what i carried out fits on these pages.
a small first printing, numbered by hand — the way the reading copies were. want one held for you when it drops?
hold my copy → saba@poetica.studiosaba@poetica.studio