In an Illinois hospital, Luke Cullen, black-and-blue from punching himself in the face, lies in a bed with his hands strapped to the rails so he doesn’t attack the nurses or his mother, Jamie, whose entire upper body is covered with bite...
The only lock of hair I have ever mourned is a silky strand—a baby’s purest blond, saved from the first cut of a daughter’s hair & preserved with a photo under glass.
The first thing I must tell you is that all three sisters are born on the same day in December. Every other winter, without fail, out they come, like a foot stamped three times in the dark.
The soldier wears a helmet shaped like a tortoise shell. He processes my papers. Tells me the reception hall is used for karate. On stage, I pick sagebrush off
Let’s begin with the paintings, Marc Chagall’s Rain, a surreal portrait of a farm in a Russian village— with strange dreamlike childlike forms of humans & animals—
