- In Memoriam: Toni Morrison
The Voice of Sheila Chandra
When the sun goes down you move
horizontal you become everything
in the world at once rather than waking
like vertical where you obsess over
ascend or descend or whatever rain
at the edge of the building spit forth
by gargoyles does drown yourself in the jizz
of the world no shape of narrative
I’m lost but thrilled sun yellow still
inside my self I am a pocket for the other
day already gone Sheila hillbilly
iconoclast seizes the song in the cage
of her throat drawls not the edge of it
but its music entire
. . .
The Gay Horizon
The first twenty minutes in line outside the bathhouse sound like thunder. The Broncos have just played—maybe won—at Mile High Stadium, and if it weren’t for a block of four-story apartment buildings we ’d be looking down on the city from the Highlands. . . .
There was a story in the village of Bjni that went like this: When Armenia declared its independence from the Soviet Union, there were two types of people—Armenian A, . . .