I swear I read somewhere that your uncoiled intestines can reach the moon.
God
We stood by the window and watched the howling dark, even though this isn’t what you should do in a tornado.
Someday We Will Conjure New Gods to Console Us
There will always be demands and obligations, but they do not need me before eleven o’clock.
Hallucinations and Routines
The Joshua tree was named by Mormons who thought they saw their prophet pointing to the promised land.
Prophets
Yesterday in twenty-first-century America, I idled behind a jeep with an InfoWars license plate.
Someday We Will Invent Kinder Gods and New Miracles
“Science shouldn’t explain everything,” she told me.
The Corners of the Ceiling
My first memory of God: I was five or six years old and feverishly rubbing a white crayon into a dark blue piece of construction paper.
A Fleeting Shape Glimpsed From the Corner of the Eye
Tomorrow's Gods
Maybe it's limbic and hardwired, this desire to see the divine rather than hear or touch.
Ecce Homo
Eve
Pray
To Believe in Something Otherworldly in 2020
This morning in the park, I sat across from a woman who was talking to the pigeons gathered around her feet.
Grace
Unless people are exploding in the streets.
Desecration
Accretion
Dark
Diners with fritzing neon that you can hear.
Avalanche
The Names of the Lights Overhead
Space
Doubt
Kneel
Quiet
Denial
Stay Wild and Free
Cross
Pattern
Bow
Ghost
The service was purely tonal.
Cathedral
Notes from an accidental visit to a temple in West Virginia.
Scenes from America’s Taj Mahal
