Category: articles
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That which is binding.
In these times we need something other than a stick, something that reaches beyond the range of mere weapons. The president paused and placed his hand upon a globe, fingers running across the continents. Such things need to be crafted to present the finest point of control without the blunt certainty of destruction…
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(Hillsborough River, Tampa, Florida, a quarter-mile upstream from the Save A Lot overpass.)
I. To the Santerían Woman on the Dock Across from Mine a. The Goat The first time I saw a goat up close was when you draped its headless body atop the current. Its hooves grazed the buoy of my crab trap before catching on the line. Ankle deep in blood-steeped brackish, you looked at…
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The Sound of Bells
On the street rests crumbled relics, hardened with time, crushed and oxidized. They cannot be seen from the sagging porch facing the street but their existence is made known by the stressing sound of each individual granule as it scrapes beneath the drifting wheels of the night cruisers. Looking for a quiet place to park,…
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These Straits
I say I want, and wonder what I mean. As if to speak my longing could summon what I seek. Foolish man; over-fond; much too frank. As if to say I love you were money in the bank. Presumption’s my secret sin; I say I want you and wonder where you’ve been. As if you wade, like me…
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Parable of the Absent Mother
“There was a man who had two sons . . “ Luke 15:11 Her not being there was in everything. It was in their dinners together and in their sitting alone. It was in each of their bed times and in their getting up again. The younger boy was rudderless; the older one angry, always…
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The Edge of Causal Imagination
In the much-hyped muddle about data science and omniscient algorithms, causality has emerged as the latest beacon of a buzzword. The question of what causes what drives modern scientific enquiry with a relentlessness matched only by unscrupulous journalists looking for a sensational headline. (A point the webcomic XKCD drives with the incendiary headline about carcinogenic…
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Anselm Kiefer’s “Oh Stalks, Your Stalks, Oh Stalks of the Night”
From the editors at The Showbear Family Circus: Since submitting this essay, writer Michelle Mitchell-Foust has passed away. We extend our deepest condolences to Michelle’s loved ones and dedicate our current issue to her memory. A brief excerpt from her obituary appears below. “Michelle was a life-long learner.” Musgrove Mortuaries & Cemeteries Philosopher Hélène Cixous…
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Prodigals
He came to himself Luke 15:17 Jesus understood how a boy can take leave of himself – the soul drifting, propelled darkly along a descending string of poor choices but there can also be a coming home, as abrupt as Dorothy clicking her heals. Like David the king, who heard the words, “You are the…
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NO ONE TOLD ME
No one told me and I didn’t guess. Short sighted of me I know. When I was younger, I would think I will never clear my throat like that when I am talking. I would never be vain enough to trim my nose hair. Never will I be vain enough to trim my ear…
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Spark
I sip the teas of prose and guzzle electrolytes of poems. I proselytize by the Shamanism of my native tongue; my inner, transcendent, mystical language. The dancing wick is never doused, sickly as it shivers. Inspiration hides itself, imagination rebels, creativity is inured. Recurrent chapters of stimulative destitution trigger the hunt. I attempt to thwart,…
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The Ferryman’s Coin
You stand upon the bank of a dark river. The restless water moves against any rational tide, as though it reaches out to draw you in. The small waves, each struggling against the others, whisper to you, offering all the unanswered secrets of your life, yet something keeps you from diving into that umbrous tide. …
