Issue 100

Did you put him
on the canvas to get one more Jew out
of harm’s way?

I was warned by teachers and fellow artists against allowing my work to be influenced by others. But I have never really been convinced by the notion of being original.

I would like for Louise Glück to be my friend. This is a recent problem

In a passing moment at the door, Merrill captures a truth about the influence of friendship. Through the unaware examples of others, we recognize values we have been searching for in ourselves—edges or shades of the person we might become.

First we cry.
Then the tears turn to stone.
Then we remember just one thing:
The death of a son.

The nurses took off the sterile white net,
tied your hair back from your beautiful face,
and detached the machines to let you die.

People need more than just practical support, but things to feed the soul, to brighten the gray of limbo and the toxic boredom of being in between one life and the next.

Through eight drafts over six years, John was my cheerleader. With each new revision, he would tell me how the play had grown, how a character had been fleshed out, how the story was becoming clearer, how I’d finally solved a certain scene. The acerbic John of early days was gone; he was my advocate, my encourager. My Samwise.

I ask her about all things millennial, and she tells me how to take decent selfies, how Tinder works, explains online etiquette and edibles, Venmo and UberPool. She asks me what it’s like to have a kids and a husband, to be “settled.”

I know you don’t believe in God, which is only strange to me because you feel like proof.