Issue 100

Everywhere on my stroll among these rolling hills this morning, I see nude young men. I’d say they are naked as well. Many are undressed. Quite a few have no clothes on.

The guards can never leave the House of Correction because they work there but I can leave quick as I can dream. I close my eyes and hear singing again.

I could never have abandoned you if I hadn’t abandoned myself.

I hear, though, how torn he is: pulled toward something that seems to shame him. I think he half hates himself, and—like many men—he turns self-hatred into the hatred of others, especially women.

In the Avett Brothers, we share in life’s ups and downs even without blood kinship, and by offering one another redemption born of the generosity of forgiveness, the gift of collaboration, and the freedom to pursue our ideas, our musical family blossoms with creativity.

What He Knew _____ for David :: Before Alzheimer’s and during it when he spoke in stray words or in sounds he sometimes moved his hands like birds _____ in flight… so that, watching his hands punctuate the air I’d ask myself Am I watching birds disappear? Or a flower, opening?   :: “If we…

I give you my thanks. Perhaps
you see that in my eyes, although
the only words I have left
are no doubt cruel.

mother
tongue she was used to holding, now she uses it to say
the things she means, what God has shown her

To be a priest
is to widen your arms
to hold the great sorrow

I wrap you in a cape and snug it with a clip.
How careful I must be, rounding
your good ear with scissors, the ear
my tongue loves to kiss, apricot-sweet,
and loves, too, the bad ear and its ghosts.