Whole industries have sprung from nothing, from someone broken, crying: make me whole. My brother, having broken a green banana in half, held the two snapped bits up to my mother, who held me in 1962 in the produce section of the A&P, and holding me (as yet unbroken), strolled, if briefly, from my brother, pretending not to know him, knowing his inmost desire to be reunited with a time before he knew me. The cry insists: make me whole, as if…… More »
A needle must feel deeply needled, ill- suited to its skin, to leave its arrow- straight ways, to stray into a haystack, to mean to lose or find itself in that soft tangle, to fill its one good eye with the gold filament of pasture, to imagine itself pillow to the weary, supper to bell- necklaced goats. A needle like that? It would be criminal even to report it missing. … More »
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