Bryce A. Taylor

Barabbas we can understand—a bit unhinged, but we have plannedfor that containable derangement,just as in the kind estrangementof Legion, as he styled himself,by the grave edge of a lakeside shelf.Aside from the price of swine, you see,that madman was dependably—well, mad. Our wars, our . . . . Continue Reading »

Smart people have informed me I am on the wrong, or losing, side of history. But will there be a right and winning side when the world is gone? . . . . Continue Reading »

Don’t think about the freckles he, or she, ?Might have, or how much hair, how big a grin, ?Or whether swimming would come naturally, ?Or whether” it? ”might play the violin. Don’t think of prom, don’t think of puppy love ?Or calculus, or snow, or spring in bloom, ?Or . . . . Continue Reading »

Upstanding persons surely find it odd, The way these pilgrims crawl to Bethlehem. How baffling is the foolishness of God. Two thousand years have passed, and still they plod, Hoping a cave might shed some light on them. Enlightened persons surely find it odd. The virgin queen, derided as a fraud, . . . . Continue Reading »

Like this Auschwitz barbed-wire rosary” clipped with teeth and finger twisted, black-blood-stained, rain-encrusted, thorny, skin-pricking, motherly-misery- pregnant, passed from hand to bone-ripped ashen hand, brand of traitors to the empire, fire in chokehold chambers sparking visions of . . . . Continue Reading »