When fishes flew and forests walked
And figs grew upon thorn,
Some moment when the moon was blood
Then surely I was born;
With monstrous head and sickening cry
And ears like errant wings,
The devil's walking parody
On all four-footed things.
The tattered outlaw of the earth,
Of ancient crooked will;
Starve, scourge, deride me: I am dumb,
I keep my secret still.
Fools! For I also had my hour; One far fierce hour and sweet: There was a ...
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- Editor’s Note
Issue 44: Walking Spain’s Camino, miscarriage and the universe, and a Good Friday groan. /
- Walk This Way
Notes from a journey on the Camino de Santiago. /
- I, Universe
What my miscarriage helped me see about my place in the cosmos. /
- Good Friday Blues
The devastating, wordless groaning of one of the greatest songs of all time. /
- Wonder on the Web
Issue 44: Links to amazing stuff.
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