Tag Archives: the Fall


Precipitated by clever argument between gravity, ice, and the presumption of free will, bruised as creation, blue and green, concussed like goatskin stretched and pounding – the serpent, sliding snidely by, hisses something about pride, a fig leaf, and the … Continue reading

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Michael and all angels

I am tired of angels. I am tired of their wings beating hollow drums of war, their obsequious, their patronizing, “Do not be afraid;’ their inconvenient words to frightened virgins and old women. I am tired of their entrapment of … Continue reading

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