Hey, it's Major. The team is taking some time to slow down as we ramp up for back to school,

whether we're students, teachers, parents, or just, you know know students of life.

In the meantime we're featuring some favorite episodes from this season so far.

We'll be back with new episodes Monday, September 16th.

I'm Major Jackson and this is the slowdown. It seems like there's not one person who hasn't sung along with the

Edda James Classic Sunday kind of love.

For most, Sunday is our sacred day to lay loose limb in bed

to take out time to do nothing. It's the day to roll over and let an arm and leg fall

over the body of a friend or a partner or dog as a rectangle of sunlight slowly travels the room.

Then, alas, we have arisen and stretched and yawned our way out of cuttling,

towards a glass of orange juice or coffee.

And it's the day to move around in pajamas

as long as possible, unhurried, reading a newspaper or as the song suggests

relishing in the languorous joys of a permanent love.

Today's poem, which alludes to the biblical story of Adam and Eve and the first garden, celebrates the carnal sweetness of those chill days with the beloved.

The poem brazenly proclaims the power and maybe even recklessness

of sensuous mating that is its own form of world building, voyage, and cultivation.

From the Garden of Limbs by Christina Perez Diaz

One, limbs of each other, limbs to be remembered by no one.

We alone.

We grew a garden.

Every dead Sunday, we grew a garden of limbs.

...