Psalm 1

My road leads to oblivion. I would love to think that it sails to a golden future of hope, but it stalls in my own

Psalm 150

Praise is not a compliment,    not a friendly recognition of a favor. It’s an outpouring – a soul    wrenching expression of longing and

Psalm 149

I’m suspicious of victory     or maybe superiority that comes from winning. Perhaps I     just can’t stand to lose. No matter what, victory concerns

Psalm 148

It’s just a collection of vapor.     We call it rain – sometimes a storm. But it’s just a gathering of steam, an unquestioning retreat

Psalm 147

I saunter up to reception, pushing past the smaller guests. “One table, please.” It’s an order that I’ve framed as a request. It’s absurd because

Psalm 146

The golden creek bed waves to me. I scale the asphalt runoff to find the water teeming with playful creatures and pebbles. I sense the

Psalm 145

Slouching in front of the pantry,    staring at the tangled packages filled with nothing, replaced with hope    or negligence. This is the moment

Psalm 144

If I feel planted     when so many are denied rooting, am I a Hebrew,     disenfranchised in the desert night or Egyptian born?    

Psalm 143

There’s a creeping haze when you’re lost. It sets in softly at first. “Shouldn’t there be a trail marker?” “I thought the landmark was here.”

Psalm 142

I’ve been underneath the soil – darkness so blinding my ears muffled in response. I was surrounded by friends. My dad, less than an arm’s

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