Bless me, O Lord, and these your gifts, your emissaries: bacillus, yeast, and virus, protozoa and metazoa—all who receive me as their gift. I thank you for this, our Holy Commensalism.
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Poetry & Fiction
Do you ever get the feeling you’re being watched?
A new poem by John Morris.
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In New York, no one is atheist.
A poem by John Morris.
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Are we afraid to look toward God?
A poem by Caitlin R.
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Were we, perhaps, not happier when we were monkeys?
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Where do you want to be when you’re done with this life and go on to the next?
New lyrical Prose from Emily Wilson.
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I was hoping to pass right through the herd without being sucked into the swirling cesspool of patchouli stench, henna tattoos, dreadlocked heads, hacky sacks, hemp necklaces, pot smoke, and body odor. And there they were in all their glory, waiting peacefully for the doors to open. Many sitting on the cold, wet pavement, smiling at the beauty of the world.
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I love life because God loves me.
I don’t believe I’d be thrown
into a hay stack to find a microscopic needle
of a “truth”, and be punished if I’m not so lucky.
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An old church, existential conversation, a convenience store heist, and the tear king.
New short fiction from Thomas Storey.
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A poem by Lloyd Lofthouse, author of My Splendid Concubine
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“An unprofitable servant of God,” her father called me. His eyes black as blood. Angie loved him, but she adored (worshiped) me. “Don’t defile her purity boy,” he’d say. “Your love should be for Christ, not my Angie.” He spoke of love, but couldn’t grasp Divine Love, our love. So it was necessary. Silly detail [...]
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