Hagia Sophia

You don’t sing anymoreyour bells don’t ring on Sundaysand your icons don’t chantwhen the dawn returns from its  walk in the darkByzantium is but the shadow of a whisperthat holds your hollow ghost like the dead hold   their bonesyour eyes are dry, for life has escapedthrough cracks that were supposedto show pilgrims parts of a... Continue Reading →

All the Pretty Paintings

So we go to this gallery—me, Marie, the kids—and it’s not only what I expect, it’s worse. Awful, pointless, white. Everywhere white, the art and the crowd.  “Incredible,” says Marie, in her signature monotone, swiveling her head left then right, which means she approves.  “Dumb,” says Mikey, which means that in two minutes flat, he’ll... Continue Reading →

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