Tag Archives: Donald Zirilli

I was the stone Jesus said not to throw. I sang on Palm Sunday and ever since I have found roads to wait beside. I am courted by drunken tires and blissful boys with evil in their winks, but such … Continue reading →

Today I could hear the snow, as if the monks of every faith were praying silently at once, like rain with a hand over its mouth. I suppose it will go on making noise until it covers everything, and only … Continue reading →

It might start with a phone call. They had to do it. She lost control of her bowels. Dignity and carpeting demanded it. You might find, young as you are, a meaning in this, a direction, but Daphne is done. … Continue reading →