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dream

Dream Daughter

How long I’ve dreamt of you, teenaged and long-legged, lying on our porch, 
your mud-speckled sandals kicked off to the side, watching a tree slowly split 

Lake Michigan, Scene 0

There are seven of us in front of the mayor’s house asking questions about the boy they shot twenty-two times 

There are seven of us in front of the mayor’s house screaming about how the videotape of the shooting was covered up so that the mayor could get reelected

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Illustration by Julien Pacaud

Long Way Home

The Circumnavigations of Henk De Velde

When I first wrote the Dutchman, ten years ago, he was sailing around the world alone for the sixth and final time. His plan, he said, was to keep on sailing, continuing this last circumnavigation until the day he died, or until he found some unknown place “behind the horizon.” At the time, Henk De Velde was somewhere in the Atlantic, slightly closer to South America than any other continent, but not very close to anywhere at all.