Happy Birthday, America. I'm grateful and glad to be celebrating with family in my own small town, but I am saddened by the polarization of our country, by our domestic terrorism and dismay, by a kind of pervasive, low-level post traumatic stress disorder, not to dismiss more acute and actually diagnosed cases of PTSD, or some that should be diagnosed but aren't. Sigh...
I am sad about Baghdad and all the violence and suffering all over our world. Yesterday, I listened to a lovely talk about Ramadan by a woman who was shattered by the Pulse shootings, the event itself and its timing during a period of peace, compassion, atonement. Baghdad brings the same terrible irony to mind and was calculated to disrupt Ramadan.
This holiday week and weekend I have posted two poetry reviews at
Escape Into Life. One might be the remedy for the other. I hope that Mark Neely, of
Dirty Bomb, might read
Suicide Hotline Hold Music, by Jessy Randall, so he can cringe and laugh in equal measure.
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