Listen to David Lehman reading this poem. The angels won't let you touch them. They're afraid you'll discover the truth of their genitalia as not even Milton had surmised. Their nether lips make them women yet their wings flap like birds of prey in the image of gods that lift girls and deflower them with the passion of a romantic poet discovering a waterfall in a forest. So I discover you, so the black wings of angels and ghosts of boys beat in the darkness, and the noise is the noise of two lovers where two opposite and equal forces meet before going their opposite ways.
TODAY IN SLATE
Smash and Grab
Will competitive Senate contests in Kansas and South Dakota lead to more late-breaking races in future elections?
I Am 25. I Don’t Work at Facebook. My Doctors Want Me to Freeze My Eggs.
Republicans Want the Government to Listen to the American Public on Ebola. That’s a Horrible Idea.
The Most Ingenious Teaching Device Ever Invented
Tom Hanks Has a Short Story in the New Yorker. It’s Not Good.
Marvel’s Civil War Is a Far-Right Paranoid Fantasy
It’s also a mess. Can the movies do better?