Praise Him above, ye heavenly host

He said I could pray myself into the shape of a bird.

It is very seldom that a haunted house laughs and perhaps that is one reason I do not get well faster.

Pigeons, flamingos, and male emperor penguins produce milk to feed their young.

They welcomed us with pad thai and screwdrivers, washed us with soap.

Outside, in the strange yellow light, scrub jays gather to scold their dead. Inside, the doctor says that after she tears the butterfly from my neck, I could be happy again. Then again, a mouth full of feathers.

In Durango, a man prays for salvation.

A healthy gut has a balance of 85% good bacteria to 15% bad bacteria.

(Little girl, little girl, let me come in.)

Snake. Stone. Bread & circus.

There is Death and there is a death that leaves your bones still standing.

Pray then, like this: Our Federation in hierarchy, hallowed be your narrative. (On earth as it is in heaven.)

I am pulled paperwhite from the river and told not to scream.

Between me and the ritual of flight: a sound between calving and collapse. The jays unquietly scatter.