Staying home was easy
after the pulling guard
faked me wide
twice before half,
and the tailback cut back
and cleated the grass
I bulldozed with my nose.
I never forgot to hold my breath,
not even the first time
my father tossed me
off the deep end, Sink
or swim, he barked, and I sank
into his will and stayed at home,
a loyal son to my father,
who proved last month
history doesn’t always repeat-
dying, he stiff-armed the tackler
and dashed around end
out of bounds,
up through the stands
and over the distant hills.
Still Life, Still Sacred
Renaissance painters would use life-sized wooden dolls called manichini to study how drapery folds on the human…
Letters
I am writing not to address any particular article, but rather to register my concern about the…
While We’re At It
Propaganda: misleading and biased portrayal of facts, often used to inculcate and reinforce an ideology or political…