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I was fifteen. My father and I stood
at the basement threshold, shouting
at each other, maybe the only time.
Across the river her voice sends shreds
torn from something gelid, all acute
angles though the surface of each. . .
Vanna of Orvieto
(Italy, d. 1306)
Her heart burned so intensely that she took off all her clothes to pray and still. . .
A dying mill town and its toxic legacies.
On the bad methodology of corporate diversity and inclusion indices.
Jordan uses the pandemic to crack down on its largest union.