As my wife and I were leaving to go down to the town hall to vote in the primary, my wife told our twelve-year-old that she was going to vote for the candidate she favored. He asked, perfectly seriously, “How many times?”
And he’s never even been to Chicago. Or else he knows something about his mother I don’t.
YOU MIGHT ALSO LIKE
Greetings on a Morning Walk
Blackberry vines, you hold this ground in the shade of a willow: all thorns, no fruit. *…
An Outline of Trees
They rise above us, arching, spreading, thin Where trunk and bough give way to veining twig. We…
Fallacy
A shadow cast by something invisible falls on the white cover of a book lying on my…