To hear the poet read "Horizon," click here.
Mother, I think, what could comfort you?
I might as well ask a piece of paper
for panaceas. I remember the fevers,
the figments of your agitations:
once the balustrades of our house
trembled, your children turned wooden
and burned to leave you. Now,
in your den of grievances, you seem
cornered, possessed, relentless,
all repudiation of reason. So I try
to change subjects, anything wild
from the news: a scandal, a strange
scientific wonder, like the dinosaur
fossil with feathers. That makes you
sullen, flat. I can't think how
to disarm or distract. Then, as if
I'd fallen suddenly asleep and you need
to wake me, you inject a dead
enemy's name, her antique crime,
and your old animation's restored--
that animus, like ash, aflame once more!
A hundred miles from your telephone,
I watch a small white sailboat
that appears to be in flight, or like
a feather, afloat, untethered, so
heavenly I know not to mention it.
A hundred miles from you, I see bay
and sky becomes one color, pearl blue.
The horizon beyond us both, invisible.
TODAY IN SLATE
Smash and Grab
Will competitive Senate contests in Kansas and South Dakota lead to more late-breaking races in future elections?
Stop Panicking. America Is Now in Very Good Shape to Respond to the Ebola Crisis.
The 2014 Kansas City Royals Show the Value of Building a Mediocre Baseball Team
The GOP Won’t Win Any Black Votes With Its New “Willie Horton” Ad
Sleater-Kinney Was Once America’s Best Rock Band
Can it be again?
Forget Oculus Rift
This $25 cardboard box turns your phone into an incredibly fun virtual reality experience.