Why this collective, tacitly-understood expectation that grief for an animal should be brief and relatively tidy?
The couch in the Jordan River was a surprise. No, it was worse than that; it was downright obscene. I’d had an appointment with God for months, from the moment I’d received my itinerary. A holy moment on my calendar, penned in permanent ink. And now I stood along the upper reaches of the Jordan, … Continue reading The Couch in the Jordan River
Sometimes I bump into some cool people and interesting stuff, which might not happen if I could see where I were going.
We walk an empty stretch of beach kept secret by the locals, not residents nor tourists either, suspended for a summer between addresses, without a set of walls to keep us in. No trinkets here, no coconut drinks, only a half-bottle of wine warm as the sea whose faded green is like the turquoise no … Continue reading Paa Mul
Lazarus From the cave I walked into the darkness I once called day, and gagged upon the smells. My sisters wore the ashes of distress; I loosened my shroud and poor Marta fell. I despaired to find myself back in hell. Some error had returned me to the world of dull-eyed beasts, of shit and … Continue reading Two Sonnets About the Sucky Side of Resurrection
Once upon a time, it was the custom of the land to give each newborn child a sweater. Every person in the child's village played a part in making the sweater. Some fed and watched the sheep, some sheared. Some spun thread, some dyed it brilliant colors. And some, called weavers, whispered incantations as they … Continue reading The Parable of the Magic Sweater