both how wrong the aloneness of my Father’s body, slumped in the reverberant too-small bath. and Mother, cupping His head, mapped with violent-violet scans, explorations of hope, reduced, a crown of purple thorns, a porcelain throne, draped in linen terrycloth. damn God! he’s unskinned, out of his shell of Fatherness, adrift, washed into the sea, […]
Bucha 2022 Dark smudges in the sky, or is it black feathers? You see them now. Black birds. Ravens and vultures circling over Kyiv. In the city outskirts, red soldiers are invading. You hear them marching, and the hammering sound is getting louder. You hear frightening gunfire. You wonder who was killed. A family member? […]
The Bath Something – everything Wrong all wrong I know now I didn’t then I burst in – intuitively Propelled by my Own vague memory There a too familiar Too intimate scene Mother and little sister In the bath together Annulling “perfectly innocent” Mother reclining in warm water Child standing shivering Naked confused paralysis At […]
The Book of Never My Always, Overdue My Bible spits out Republicans brandishing Bazookas and hand-grenades. I think they’re from the Book of Revelations, because of that whole Armageddon thing. But when a new bar of soap feels more like an old friend to my nose, the hand-worn pages of all my ancestors splay out […]