panic
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Scientific, Healing Magic: How to Know the Flowers by Jessica Smith
A poem by Jessica Smith yields the feeling that atoms of meaning vibrate, then come together.
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Splintered Doors
This journey is ongoing. But I know this: my daughter will never have to break down a door.
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Run for Her Life
Maybe you didn’t remember to get out of his way while pretending to be brave. It’s hard to be brave when you think a man is about to kill you.
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The Evolution of a Trigger
Perhaps they are really saying: This will not happen to me. I will be prepared. And, in hoisting that hypothetical gun, they feel they are made safe from the appalling vulnerability of living.
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Albums of Our Lives: Frightened Rabbit’s The Midnight Organ Fight
Something about the twangy banjo and the melancholy vocals just made me feel less alone. And I hated being alone.
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The Saturday Rumpus Essay: No Wound
Maybe I can touch it and show it to you. If I convince you, we can call it real. And then perhaps it will be.
