Everyone was out that day, for a show. Sure, it was sad for people who knew him but she was his mother, slinking about the rabble in that dark halug, veiling her face with a headscarf—as if no one noticed her. Some say it served her right, letting her son run about the countryside the […]
Dante Micheaux
Dante Micheaux: Vis-à-vis de Rien
Chaos is a hanging thread—minor but out of place, insignificant in infinity, says the keeper of Shangri-la. On the corner of Trinity and Church, a small girl offers me the sun for a nickel and I’d gladly take control of the solar system but do not have a nickel. The sun, with its watery-urine yellow […]