Ten Thousand Things is about motherhood. Also it is about the equipmentality of woman in/to society in general. It is about parenting as labour; poetry as labour; labour as poetry; poetry as thought; thinking as poetry; protest as labour; poetry as protest; and our perennially changing, perennially stuck hereditary lines. It is for warrior-women. It is for girly-men. It is for all persons, animals, plants in between. It is about love. It is about fear. It is about doubt. It is about hope.

It is against misogyny, even of the well-meaning kind that tells people how to be in the short term or when to sacrifice themselves for everybody elses good. It is against the mythopoesis of mother as stand-in for all creation, and also, of course, it carefully recognizes this careless summary. It is against purity and divisive lines. It is against destruction of any persons or animals or plants on this planet, which also happens to be the home that sustains us. Duh!

It wishes that in the future there would be other ways of loving, living, pro-/creating and dying. It hopes humans might find out what these are before its too late.