Yidiot
I decided to go on Thursday night to the Buddhist talk at my temple, the Congregation B’nai Tsimmes. I managed to get out of work early, always a Nirvana-inducing feat, then high-tailed it home, ran three, showered, nuked and ate a health-conscious chicken pot pie, and set forth on my Siddharthan quest. Minya stayed home with the quads. On the ten-minute ride to the temple, I fretted about whether I was wearing the right clothes; the flyer had said to wear “comfortable clothes and footwear,” but I wasn’t about to wear sweats to a place of worship. I wondered if I would know anybody...
Read MoreA Vegetarian Backslidden
On the seventh day God rested, so Sunday dinner was up to Lucifer. While chewing enthusiastically and explaining to his angels that, for much of the beginning of human history, his most confusing creation would believe their planet was not only flat but the center of the universe (to hearty chuckles all around) God ate in contentment. But, towards the end of the meal, the creator abruptly began to brood. Seeing his lord staring off, his hairy jaws full but no longer moving, Gabriel asked what was wrong. “Well,” God both swallowed and answered hesitantly. “It’s the food.” “Oh, I...
Read MoreIf Rather Perpendicular
If we imagined the divine as horizontal instead of vertical, would saints have wheels—or skis, in northern reaches? Would worshippers look into the distance with leveled eyes and imagine their loved ones beyond the line of trees, hills, or concrete? And would houses of worship be tunnels whose ends projected their sacred symbol, to the vanishing point where vision failed and faith necessarily took over entirely, in that realm of metaphor perpendicular to ours and our privileging of up and those wings awfully useful to reach...
Read MoreFeatured Works: Week of Sep. 25 (Modern Life)
Throughout the ages, poets and writers have examined the times in which they lived. As this week’s contributors demonstrate, our modern lifestyle offers opportunities for both humor and reflection. “In Velvet” by Audrey El-Osta raises a sit-com scene to divine self-expression. “Princess and the 21st Century Space-Age Mattress” by Mat Labotka provides a humorous update of a classic tale. “Interior Monologue (Girl with Cell Phone)” by Frank De Canio turns to the sonnet form for a wry dissection of modern...
Read MoreInterior Monologue (Girl with Smart Phone)
Though it’s no mace, but cell phone in my hand, I’d like to favor you. But I’ve a slew of messages whose import countermand desires of my awestruck retinue who pass me with petitions on the street. Because of this, I claim the royal right to read my e-mail following a tweet to devotees while you keep me in sight. Indeed, not only are my hands not free, but texting makes it difficult to turn, acknowledging those holding doors for me. Thus, I can’t give the gratitude you yearn for who suppose a royal highness grants indulgence to her abject...
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