DiaBLOGue

Martin in Me

March 22, 2018

Three times I take his words into my mouth 
and make them thunder from my tongue. 
His final speech will not remain unsung in me. 

Confession

March 22, 2018

The trees wear 
            copper-lit skin tonight. 
Spread out and still in the cold, 
they look like slender Kenyans 
                        holding up thousands of hands, 

Thousand Springs

March 22, 2018

It snowed yesterday for a moment
            but it was an idea 
                        that didn’t catch on — 

Sorrow and Song

March 22, 2018

That morning you came to me 
I saw the lamp arising in your beard, 
a flash of solder and fire 
wisping in your robes and hair 

Miracle

March 22, 2018

Lucille Wentworth sat in her working on her cross-stitch, watching Judy and Ray hold hands, sitting across from her on the couch. It was late, past one; they’d talked for hours, the conversation flowing around…

’Atta Boy

March 22, 2018

Latham Runyon wondered what time he ought to close his window. It was going to be a tongue-hanger today. But for now, the morning was still dewy and bearable.  He pulled his half-glasses up to…

Religion and Natasha McDonald

March 22, 2018

I AM NATASHA MCDONALD. THIS IS MY MOM AND DAD. I HAVE CEREBRAL PALSY. I THINK AND FEEL LIKE YOU DO BUT THE PART OF MY BRAIN THAT CONTROLS MY PHYSICAL SELF WAS DAMAGED WHEN…

The Making of Grave Community Sin

March 22, 2018

Few articles published in Dialogue disturbed my intellectual comfort as Dr. Bradley Walker’s three-part series on the deplorable condition of Latin American Saints.[1] For some three decades, I lived off and on in Third World…