Okay, mama's little chickadees... it's been a long time & mama skipped checking in all summer cos the porch's just too sweet & the whiskey mash too strong & some summer days mama sits in the bathtub gins all day long
mama's been busy. of course. just like you all. just like the scurrying ants of capitalism's busy system. & now summer's gone. the northern winds blew in & started rattling the trees, blew mama's sweater coat from under the eaves, blew mama's bunny heart back into her ribs that cage it there where it beats & thumps & wants out & wants to fuck all the other bunnies all around who are still hopping free unencumbered
but it's fall & time for bunnyhearts to slow down, to take stock, to count their bunnyblessings or some shit, to den and warren, to fluff and buffer against the cold
& winter, my dears, will be a time for writing.
this morning mama woke up in mama's mama's bed & had an idea
this morning mama woke up with a new story.
mama's new story is going to interrogate love and control. what happens when you get old & you still want to fuck but you're a woman and this new story's gonna use fairy tale tropes and motifs and camp those motherfuckers up because it is in/through these old stories that the way's paved/potholed/bulldozed for new stories
mama talks a little about fairy tales in this interview i did this summer with the good bunnyhearted people from Beecher's Magazine
mama was still soaking in the bathtub gin-sins even then