Browsing Month April, 2000

Plague

This is Shakespeare’s sonnet 114: Or whether doth my mind, being crowned with you, Drink up the monarch’s plague, this flattery? Or whether shall I say mine eye saith true, And that your love taught it this alchemy, To make of monsters and things indigest Such cherubins as your sweet self resemble, Creating every bad more…

Lacy

Lacy launched a new project for the homeless this week. They were out, the weather was warm, before these last few days of snow. They have resumed their stations. Their clothes stink of mildew, urine. Their bodies smell like leftover turkey. Lacy, if you remember, comes from privilege. She assumes there was once civilization in more…