Ghosts

Because I recently watched the terrible film “Sylvia,” I took more notice of the death of Plath’s son. I have maintained a dismissive distaste for Plath since college. A privileged, connected, lovely, talented poet, who had a dizzying romance with another successful poet and two sweet children. How sad for her. I did sit through the movie, since I love […]

Dancing

I went straight from a Midwestern Baptist-style funeral to summer-steamed New Orleans. One minute I was singing a hymn in a pew, and hours later I was on a bus staring at the rehabbed Superdome, seeing the ghosts of the abandoned along the clean sidewalk. I had to say some firm, abbreviated goodbyes to get […]