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The day Congress announced their articles of impeachment,
it snowed in Mississippi: big, puffy snow-globe flakes
that fell. . .
Fool had ten thousand acres
but needed my ass to make it complete.
He rubbed me like a good luck charm
and I poisoned his pancakes.
I’m trying to become habitual, amidst all
of this. Though two years back, spring
passed over the whole of New England. . .
What has changed during the pandemic, other than our fears?
Two films from 1938 tackle the French Revolution
On Nomadland and the cinema of peripatetic women.