Baptism 


I drove up to the mountains sensing freedom, but drove past my intended destination of the hot springs. Something was moving me, I was not in control but I was enveloped in complete peace. The interstate turned into an off-ramp, the pavement turned into dirt, and the 4-wheel drive turned into 2-leg only. Where I could no longer drive up the snowy and muddy road, on the stereo Roberta Flack was singing “Killing Me Softly” and I, content with my own slow death.  Read More

Dirge

Drawing by Guy Denning

Beyond tired of getting strung along by God. And the destination, only God knows; could be Calvary freakin Hill for all I know. Blindly dragged, hoping we’re on our last leg to paradise. Ha. Though further and further we trudge, to an off-key rusted trombone dirge, slooooww, yet never Read More

Suction

Art by Paul Gosch

Lord help to console hearts in this hour of grief on this day where hideous laughter comes too soon like junk to help us forget — not feel — pain. What is the word, this queer expression of thwarted happiness? Read More

Siren

She who needs saving

In my youth I was shown all the ways to you.  So vast and intricate, and in this wonder I stood paralyzed, unable to move toward you in terrible awe of the all-seeing eye design, dynamic and changeless.  In time I grew afraid Read More

Let There Be a Penitent Rapist

Art by Luiza Vizoli

His name was Tyrone.

Or was it Tyrese? What I do know is that it is a grace of God that the memory of his name was stolen from me too. Stolen along with that Fourth of July night in Billings, the year I turned twenty-one, when he dropped a date-rape pill into my drink. There weren’t any fireworks that night.
Among the few moments of relative lucidity that night were these: Read More

Loss and Viruses, A Train-ride to DC, Sisterhood

Glassworks

On the train to DC to visit Bek, a man came from a few rows up and across the aisle to tap my shoulder and hold up a screen that read, “Will you help me?” He is deaf and needed to call his case-worker, Mrs. Allen, to let her know that he is on the train. I called her and she told me that it was okay for him to go back to his apartment. I typed her reply and as I got up to return to my seat he leaned in and told me, “I just lost my family in an explosion.”  Read More

Climate Change

I want to awake at dawn

And with the finality of the seventh day, say:

“It’s done.”

(Or better yet) have no memory of that

Long night.

I want the culprits of sex-traffic to awake

Beating their own breasts

Compassion like filial love pours forth like

Virgin blood. Read More