Articles

A story gets away from its author.

What does an artist give up for art?

Can a four-year-old understand stealing?

The microcosmic richness of human identity is a reflection of the God who not only made us but sees us, knows us, and speaks to us. Our being addressed by the divine is an infinite well for human possibility.

I went out to my car and brought back my old, / frayed road map of Kansas, and she followed / the unfolding as if it in itself were a miracle

She has lived / six years on planet earth, and like other / children of the storm has been advised, The horse will bring you home.

watch it… skim the floor / with its mouth / like a child looking / up to the lord

in the photo I had taken of him you can see how Mike’s face had gone and went

Like Mackey, [Howe] is forced to interpret the historical recurrence of evil as cruelly fated; human beings are the unwitting playthings of what she calls, in Manimal Woe, “the mystery of repetition.”

They’re installing blue lights in the laundromat bathroom. / Harder to find a vein that way, but the needle keeps / yearning into the body