Easter

Easter

I believe in the resurrection. With its birdsong and flowery filigree, springtime is a useful simile, but the meaning moves in only one direction. It is a life that was, and then was not: true flesh with dirt beneath the fingernails, an eye color that history has...
Notes from the Quarantine

Notes from the Quarantine

Day 1 You tell yourself that you are going to learn French. Instead you make coffee with milk and tell yourself it’s okay because they’ve yet to close the grocery stores; no need to break into the shelf-stable supplies. You tell yourself lies—that...
Sleep

Sleep

Thou art more than the day or the morrow, the seasons that laugh or that weep; For these give joy and sorrow; but thou, Proserpina, sleep. —Algernon Charles Swinburne, Hymn to Prosperine   If asked to choose: eternal life or sleep,    he’s not sure how...
Ink Spots

Ink Spots

Hearing the car approach, the garage door open,           the engine stop, the driver’s door swing shut, I ran from the room where I’d spilled the ink           and fear was a goblin clutching at my gut. I’d tried to scrub the sofa cushions clean    ...