Stunned by the lamp above my desk, a moth
landed on my glasses. I snapped my head
so sharply I hurt my neck and stopped work
on a small poem that didn't matter. The moth
was black with a smudge of iridescent green
underneath its thorax and orange head.
I was watching my neighbor's grandson toddle around
with an orange pail upended on his head
and bump into the parked car and laugh,
into the door and laugh and fall and laugh,
learning the hard and opaque by seeing nothing
and loving the feel of it, understanding nothing
of how serious comedy is, how odd to laugh.
TODAY IN SLATE
The Most Terrifying Thing About Ebola
The disease threatens humanity by preying on humanity.
I Bought the Huge iPhone. I’m Already Thinking of Returning It.
Scotland Is Just the Beginning. Expect More Political Earthquakes in Europe.
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And schools are getting worried.
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Lifetime Didn’t Think the Steubenville Rape Case Was Dramatic Enough
So they added a little self-immolation.
Blacks Don’t Have a Corporal Punishment Problem
Americans do. But when blacks exhibit the same behaviors as others, it becomes part of a greater black pathology.