Trudging behind the broad backside of God she hums her useless tune Oh little black dress at the back of the closet, who will crush you now against his chest?
Green Italian boots in a midnight window,
a scrabble of rats, a hand
lit from within like a tulip—
Who dashes down that street to meet her lover?
Who sits in the movie theatre
coiled, silent, a black cat?
The dark-eyed daughters idly stroke their breasts.
A jackal crouches in shadow, hungry for salt.
At the base of a dune that heaves to the blank horizon
a palm tree shrugs its shoulders
as if to say: Well, what did you expect?
TODAY IN SLATE
Here’s Where We Stand With Ebola
Even experienced international disaster responders are shocked at how bad it’s gotten.
It’s Legal for Obama to Bomb Syria Because He Says It Is
Divestment Is Fine but Mostly Symbolic. There’s a Better Way for Universities to Fight Climate Change.
I Stand With Emma Watson on Women’s Rights
Even though I know I’m going to get flak for it.
It Is Very Stupid to Compare Hope Solo to Ray Rice
In Defense of HR
Startups and small businesses shouldn’t skip over a human resources department.