City Councilors Table the Ceasefire Resolution

→ PUBLISHED IN ISSUE NO. 35: FALL/WINTER 2025

Look how the sidewalk rises to meet your feet

with the gentleness of mothers. The splendor

of spring trees in fuchsia bloom is yours alone.

In the opera house of gore, you speak only

to the usher with his dim flashlight:

the seat’s crooked and your back knots.

The rest of us feel the years in our teeth.

Words break. How untroubled the sunshine.

This weekend, you’ll take out the grill.