Reed Richards

REED RICHARDS {[email protected]} lives in Nashville, Tennessee, where he is the organist in the Cumberland Branch, pianist for the Primary, and a dedicated home teacher. He attended BYU and Vanderbilt. His poems and stories have appeared in Dialogue and Nashville Scene. He is moving to Murray, Utah, in August and will miss his branch.

Mr. Lind

Articles/Essays – Volume 57, No. 2

Ziner didn’t make Mr. Lind sick, so he’s under no obligation to make him feel better. Whatever small thing he chooses to do is purely out of kindness. Mr. Lind wastes in his tender flesh while Ziner struts in front of his bed to show that the one who can still walk is the one who is not a fool.

Hand

Articles/Essays – Volume 57, No. 2

Cup of secrets at the mouth,
gate of astonishment, flag of denial,
register of deeds, cradle of arithmetic,
ledger of greetings and good-byes,

Lithium Shuffle

Articles/Essays – Volume 56, No. 3

Down the streettrusties from the state hospitalfollowing the horizon of their noon shadows,their feet scooping up the sidewalk,the fastest as slow as the slowest.The sun is on them and pitiless.If we, shaded neighborson the other…

A Perfect World

Articles/Essays – Volume 42, No. 4

Shy people would be kings and queens
of their own secret realms.
They might require everyone to wear sunglasses
for an hour every day while conversing
with strangers.

The Man with One Foot Outside of Hell

Articles/Essays – Volume 42, No. 4

Moshan Fani, in the Dabistan, or School of Manners,
tells how in Zardusht’s dream
the only light was the fire of a kind of purity
burning like a star far beyond
the dark side of ordinary evil.

the god of small things

Articles/Essays – Volume 43, No. 2

He is, perhaps, the same god as the God of Big Things,
but not meant to be worshipped or to run your life,
only to annoy you or not annoy you,
whichever the script calls for.

What It Means

Articles/Essays – Volume 46, No. 2

I was looking at the morning through the window in the front room like a bear in a cage remembering somewhere there are meadows, and I noticed how much water was running down the gutter…