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Meta
I imagined thin, parched men and women, kneeling for supplication, and gods descending from the clouds of heaven in flowing garments of silk and bedecked with jewels. Like a mythological drama, except that this was the alleged past of my people.
Read “Where It Ends” by Swapna Kishore.
Clark had shopped the week before
We visited friends in Memphis, TN and Austin, TX.
Memphis

The Crystal Shrine Grotto in the Memorial Park Cemetery,
a man-made cave of crystals, with dioramas of the life of Christ.

The Pool of Hebron beside the grotto, in front of the Cave of Machpelah.

The Lorraine Motel, where Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated
and site of the National Civil Rights Museum (auto-plays music).

Upstairs in former brothel Ernestine & Hazel’s.

Austin

Mexic Arte, which had cool street art like this.

Detail: Tony Ortega’s “La Marcha de los Desvalidos.”

Detail: Maria Natividad’s “Menudo Breakfast of Champions.”

Detail: J. Salvador Lopez’s “Swift/Devotion.”

Detail: Santiago Forero’s “Vietnam” (self-portrait from his Action Heroes series).

View from The Oasis, a restaurant overlooking Lake Travis.
When the sun finishes setting, everybody claps.

The Oasis had a lot of gaudily awesome artwork.

So did the downtown.
The coolest thing we saw were the bats, but I couldn’t get any good pictures.
Here are some on flickr: one and two.
Home

Also: here’s our new bunny, Harvey, running around my office.
everything that mutes is mutual
Prick of the Spindle has just accepted two of my poems, “The Casualty Notification Officer” and “Everything that Divides,” for their next issue. Woot!
This was fun because I don’t like to be cheered up; I like to wallow, I find it restorative and oddly calming.
Read “The Chair of Rejection” by Stacey Richter.
Charley sat on a lawn chair watching the sun set. He looked human—sort of—but there were differences, the biggest being the third eye above the bridge of his nose. When Charley got stoned, his corneas turned bright pink and the third eye rolled up into his head.
Read “The Big Splash” by George R. Galuschak.
He said foyer the way the French do.
Read “What Have You Done With My Love” by Karin Rosman.