A Psychedelic Throb
I swear I read somewhere that your uncoiled intestines can reach the moon.
God
Someday We Will Conjure New Gods to Console Us
We stood by the window and watched the howling dark, even though this isn’t what you should do in a tornado.
Hallucinations and Routines
There will always be demands and obligations, but they do not need me before eleven o’clock.
Prophets
The Joshua tree was named by Mormons who thought they saw their prophet pointing to the promised land.
Someday We Will Invent Kinder Gods and New Miracles
Yesterday in twenty-first-century America, I idled behind a jeep with an InfoWars license plate.
The Corners of the Ceiling
“Science shouldn’t explain everything,” she told me.
A Fleeting Shape Glimpsed From the Corner of the Eye
My first memory of God: I was five or six years old and feverishly rubbing a white crayon into a dark blue piece of construction paper.
Tomorrow's Gods
Ecce Homo
Maybe it's limbic and hardwired, this desire to see the divine rather than hear or touch.
Eve
Pray
To Believe in Something Otherworldly in 2020
Grace
This morning in the park, I sat across from a woman who was talking to the pigeons gathered around her feet.
Unless people are exploding in the streets.
Desecration
Accretion
Dark
Diners with fritzing neon that you can hear.
Avalanche
The Names of the Lights Overhead
Space
Doubt
Kneel
Quiet
Denial
Stay Wild and Free
Cross
Pattern
Bow
Ghost
The service was purely tonal.
Cathedral
Scenes from America’s Taj Mahal
Notes from an accidental visit to a temple in West Virginia.
