…still working on my interview with Mike Lynch, which will be up later today. But my brain spit these two pieces out when I was trying to think of something else.
On Reading My Sister’s Obituary
Leave out more
than I can take in.
The pixels parse, in
Our names that
They are the story of
That swallows the great
“what was” —
But still casts its shadow
in unrhymed stanzas
Across the empty
On Reading Old Photos
We think we know who children are and
Veil them in expectations of our universal gaze.
As we passed in strong columns of steel, we
Swathed our eyes in understanding curtains
Of blind smiles and faith, against the shadows
At their shoulders. The boy with the
Torn sandal is missing teeth; the girl
Who won’t meet our gaze is missing.