It can sometimes be found in churches, but it isn’t grown there. It’s planted in bankruptcy, divorce court, cancer wards, and abortion clinics. It’s watered with tears through sleepless nights. It sprouts in the cellar of guilt, and on Roman crosses. It’s collected outside empty tombs. It’s meant to be harvested – not bought.
My mother wonders if I may be constipated. I don’t know exactly what causes this curiosity; she’s asked me about it regularly even before she became a nurse. All I know is that it has plagued me most of my life.
I know she changed my diapers, but I believe there is a time [...]
I’m no sheep herder. All I know of mutton grazing strategies or sheep shearing involves a few lines from Baa Baa Black Sheep Have You Any Wool. I’ve always been told that sheep are intellectually challenged. I don’t know if that is true or not, but I’ve heard that the lack of brain power [...]
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