Who are your current most favorite people?

Weather Systems We Choose

The ones who carved their own weather.
The ones who let form rot and bloom again.

Leonora Carrington –
who understood that reality has trapdoors
and used every one.

Bolaño –
walking the edges of night
like literature was a feral dog worth feeding.

Agnes Martin –
quiet as snowfall,
dangerous as clarity.

Theresa Hak Kyung Cha –
who wrote with bone-light,
who broke silence into a weapon and a field.

Luis Barragán –
color as prayer,
shadow as instruction.

Clarice Lispector –
the woman who swallowed the sun
and wrote down the aftertaste.

Basquiat –
line as heartbeat,
noise as scripture.

Etel Adnan –
a mountain folded into a notebook,
a notebook folded into a life.

Ana Mendieta –
body, dirt, fire, disappearance –
ritual as uprising.

Claude Cahun –
mirrors turned sideways,
gender undone into smoke.

Abbas Kiarostami –
the long silent road,
the almond tree,
the patience to wait for the wind
to finish speaking.

June Jordan –
clarity with teeth.

Anne Carson –
scholarship loosened into dream.

Soyinka –
forest-light and consequence.

These are the ones standing close right now –
not idols,
just weather systems arranged
around a certain way of seeing:
fracture as truth,
absence as architecture,
tension as faith,
beauty as something that bites back.

The rest shift in and out,
as they should.