RAVEN MACK is a mystic poet-philosopher-artist of the Greater Appalachian unorthodox tradition. He does have an amazing PATREON, but also *normal* ARTIST WEBSITE too.

Saturday, February 1


Sometimes I realize I don't live in an apartment building with picnic tables in the center area where we hang out and play dominos or spades because the apartments are hot as fuck and all they have is window units but they're old window units and plus that's expensive to run so the cost to comfort level is not that good, but also you can't leave the windows open all the time because lolol this is America, motherfuckers will take your shit when you're not paying attention, so we hang out at the picnic tables, hoping for a breeze, enjoying when the sun is setting down behind the building top so we're in the shade, enjoying our shared existences. Normally I don't ever think about how that's not my life at all, but whenever I listen to Z.Z. Hill, it comes to mind, because I imagine we'd listen to a lot of Z.Z. Hill sitting out there when it's too hot to be inside.

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