Category: articles
-
Angel of the Battlefield
I’m decidedly old-fashioned, wearing an apron and a smile as I cross the road to greet the new neighbors. Between oven mitts, I hold a freshly-baked pie, the pan still hot. My hair is done up high and tied with a ribbon. It’s all going so well, my fifties fantasy, until, from the bowels of…
-
Sign Beside the Stop Sign
Scrawled in rambling, crudely written letters it read “please don’t leave I love you”. And since one has to or should stop at a stop sign, maybe the writer thought that would make the beloved stop and think about what they might be doing. Maybe the stop sign was their special spot, where they first…
-
Looking Glass Theory
It seemed like the right thing to do, to scan the alcohol first, since the girl was standing right there, at her station, barely six feet away. Beep. She came right over. “I.D.?” Ridiculous; but Bruce showed her without making the joke. “Cool…” she said. She tapped the date into the device hanging from…
-
A Common Problem With the “I-Me” Thing
This writer is not really Johan Sigg so much as it is an entity positioned at a curious angle looking in on a man whom other people call Johan Sigg. “I” am certainly controlling that body called Johan but “I” am not Johan. “I” am not quite sure what “I” mean to say when I…
-
Last Adventure with Ray Mundo
On the first day after our schools broke up for the summer, Ray Mundo called for me early in the morning. When I opened my front door, the first thing he said was, “Are we still best friends forever, Queen Isabella?” “Our bond can’t be broken, noble Ray Mundo,” I said. “What new adventure do…
-
Baseballs and CoVid
Weston Philips was a collector by nature. He didn’t realize it until today, but it seemed to have been a constant for most of his life. There was the boyhood coin collection, the football game programs, and then, one that was ongoing, the baseball scorecards, beginning with the Braves against the Phillies in 1971 and…
-
Hunger
Trapped in the fragments of a dream, he shrugs into a jacket, meanders into the parking lot behind his condo, sleep-sentience like tingling fingers keeping him awake. An ochre moon slides across the night, gilding a mountain lion on the slope before him, head turning as she combs the air for scent. For food,…
-
The Theological Imperative at Root in the Culture of Black Lives Matter
Air is a ubiquitous substance. Walking around a house, running through a park, or sitting outside air billows through our lungs without notice or cause. This air, however, has been slowly heating up. Like a lobster before dinner, the soft simmer has become a deadly boil. Coronavirus has choked the lungs of over 13,000 Americans.…
-
Joy
I showed my student a photograph of you, Dad, and asked, “What do you see?” He studied the old black-and-white: you in a well-cut summer suit, hands on your lap, light socks and polished shoes— and said, “I see a man who wants to have fun”— not the dutiful school principal I knew, but hands…
-
Santa Fe
Trembling aspens in the Sangres blush amber, Marking the death of summer yet resplendent and Witness to my sadness. The cottonwoods a flinty-gold lining the Rio Grande On the road to Taos the air smoke-scented with roasting piñons. I am here but lost somehow. The winds from the Rockies hum and wail to…
-
Nine-Square Xylophone
Instead of an unhinged lunatic you may glimpse a punctured soul-a mere human being like you. — Shannon Love It was 5:30pm on the District Line at South Kensington station in London and thousands of tired bodies loaded themselves onto the Underground. Like tightly packed mackerel in a tin can, we could not wedge another body onto…
-
Nature’s Lasting Lesson
The Intuition of Interconnection Nature replicates itself. Branching trees mirror tributaries in river networks, which reflect veering veins beneath our skin or forked lightning bolts under humid heat. The golden ratio measures the symmetry of pinecones, seashells, the human face, and hurricanes with the atmospheric force of circular replication. Our eyes, our most vulnerable portals,…