“This abundance of berries feels like a pure gift from the land. I have not earned, paid for, nor labored for them. There is no mathematics of worthiness that reckons I deserve them in…
At this table we sing with joy, with sorrow. We pray of suffering and remorse. We give thanks. Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating…
From Ross Gay’s interview with Bim Adewunmi on this week’s episode of This American Life, a reminder for this week and always: Bim Adewunmi: “One of the things he discovered is the mechanics of…
September After the flare of the match strike, we’re off. I tryto stop to wave, “bye.” by Adriana Stimola…
No! This is precisely the time when artists go to work. There is no time for despair, no place for self-pity, no need for silence, no room for fear. We speak, we write, we do language.…
I see it as it looked one afternoonIn August,-by a fresh soft breeze o’erblown.The swiftness of the tide, the light thereon,A far-off sail, white as a crescent moon.The shining waters with pale currents strewn,The…
The truth is, I’ve never cared for the National Anthem. If you think about it, it’s not a good song. Too high for most of us with “the rockets’ red glare” and then there…
“…What was missing from that surreal and terrifying torrent of information and virtuality was any regard, any place, for the human animal, situated as she is in time and in a physical environment with…
Dinghy floating on top of its oceanliner, the way we must look like adult and pupsea lions, beached and snoozing, or elsean asp on a heat rock, or a couple of grubs,you on me…
Put down that bag of potato chips, that white bread, that bottle of pop. Turn off that cellphone, computer, and remote control. Open the door, then close it behind you. Take a breath offered…