{"product_id":"the-life-isbn-9780143136019","title":"The Life","description":"\u003cb\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003cb\u003e“\u003c\/b\u003eAn exquisite book of poetry with a lens on motherhood that’s existential, funny and tender.” —\u003ci\u003eElle\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAcclaimed poet Carrie Fountain deepens her exploration of the domestic in a new collection of playful and wise poems\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe poems in Carrie Fountain's third collection, \u003ci\u003eThe Life\u003c\/i\u003e, exist somewhere, as Rilke says, between “our daily life” and “the great work”—an interstitial space where sidelong glances live alongside shouts to heaven. In elegant, colloquial language, Fountain observes her children dressing themselves in fledgling layers of personhood, creating their own private worlds and personalities, and makes room for genuine marvels in the midst of routine. Attuned to the delicate, fleeting moments that together comprise a life, these poems offer a guide by which to navigate the signs and symbols, and to pilot if not the perfect life, the only life, the life we are given.\u003cb\u003e\u003cu\u003ePraise for \u003ci\u003eThe Life\u003c\/i\u003e:\u003c\/u\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Fountain’s poems are [...] beloved for their warmth and intimacy . . . Her work is lyrical and relevant.” \u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe Washington Post\u003c\/i\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Fleeting, wondrous, clear.” \u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eMs. Magazine\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I write to you about \u003ci\u003eThe Life\u003c\/i\u003e with tear tracks on my cheeks. Not even old ones, because every time I look back at one of the pieces that make up Carrie Fountain's third collection of poetry, the whole process starts anew . . . Fountain is skillfully tying minute, personal experiences to our biggest quandaries about human nature to devastating effect . . . I'm very grateful to Fountain for finally bursting the stormcloud hovering above me. It's a long-awaited rain.” \u003cb\u003e—Rosalind Faires, \u003ci\u003eAustin Chronicle\u003c\/i\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Spectacular . . . reveals a young mother’s cluttered life and a glimmering world of faith shaken, stirred, and movingly reaffirmed . . . Every poem is a marvel of craft; Fountain displays exquisite judgment, with each image, figure, question, paradox, snippet of overheard conversation, and philosophical meditation finding its perfect place. The effect is quietly exhilarating. Humor and heartbreak intertwine . . . Through the alchemy of honest inquiry and clever wordplay [...] Fountain makes good on the transformative promise of poetry, ‘making one\/ thing become another’ in this remarkable work.” \u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003ePublishers Weekly\u003c\/i\u003e, STARRED review\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e \u003cbr\u003e “With its wonder at daily living, \u003ci\u003eThe Life\u003c\/i\u003e lures you into its quiet world only to ignite in abundance, ferocity, and the aching truth of survival. Fountain's stunning poems illuminate the complexities of motherhood and marriage with a clear, lyrical voice that speaks to us all.” \u003cb\u003e—Ada Limón, author of \u003ci\u003eThe Carrying\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Life here has been caught, still squirming, on poet Fountain’s lines. She lets her haul go, releases and casts another line, one after another, big and little fish, small or wild or turning lines. Each catch released as if the fisher forgot her hunger for a split second and it came back, ravenous for her. This poet’s voice works the way any great art works: so beautiful it hurts maybe too much that it seems dangerous. But it’s not like 'any great art'— it’s this one book, this voice, this life, the only one we have. And this book changed it.” \u003cb\u003e—Brenda Shaughnessy, author of \u003ci\u003eThe Octopus Museum\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“As the poet herself (mother, teacher, partner, citizen) must, these poems begin in chaotic dailiness, then swerve into sudden clarity of attention. They stun with pleasurable, often funny, at times devastating recognition. A single life, of one struggling, searching being, becomes ‘the’ life: what is despite our differences common. We can all recognize each other and ourselves in these marvelous poems.” \u003cb\u003e—Matthew Zapruder, author of \u003ci\u003eFather’s Day\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Carrie Fountain has done it again—and again, I’m in awe, like a kid watching a magician and hoping to understand the tricks. How, reading this book, can I be so grounded in \u003ci\u003ethe life\u003c\/i\u003e—its paper valentines, its grocery runs, its dead pet fish that ‘flash like money one last time \/ before vanishing down the drain”—but also be taken elsewhere, beyond? In poems that explore motherhood, selfhood, marriage, faith and belief, and the deep loneliness of being human, Fountain celebrates love and family while also acknowledging that we are traveling alone toward wherever it is we are going: ‘It is unbearable, and though \/ it is unbearable, I bear it.’ Perhaps, as she writes, there is no such thing as perfect, only ‘good enough,’ but \u003ci\u003eThe Life\u003c\/i\u003e seems evidence to the contrary. To me this book is perfect.” \u003cb\u003e—Maggie Smith, author of \u003ci\u003eGood Bones\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eKeep Moving\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cb\u003eCarrie Fountain\u003c\/b\u003e was born and raised in Mesilla, New Mexico. Fountain’s books include the National Poetry Series award winner \u003ci\u003eBurn Lake \u003c\/i\u003eand \u003ci\u003eInstant Winner\u003c\/i\u003e. Her poems have appeared in \u003ci\u003eAmerican Poetry Review\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003ePoetry\u003c\/i\u003e, and \u003ci\u003eTin House\u003c\/i\u003e, among others. She received her MFA at the James A. Michener Center for Writers at the University of Texas at Austin where she was a fellow. She lives with her husband, playwright and novelist Kirk Lynn, in Austin, Texas.\u003cp\u003eI\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe end\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHanging the miniature ornaments\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eon the miniature tree with the girl\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewhile the baby sleeps behind a sheet\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eof white noise and uncorrupted\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003edarkness. Ow, she says each time\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe needles prick her fingers. Ow.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThere is no way the little tree can\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewear it all, can bear it all; its branches\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ebegin to droop under the cheer, angels\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003emostly. Now the girl goes to bed\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ereluctantly, falls asleep instantly.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eNow the night comes full on. And so,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ein this way, the Christ child will be\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eborn again, his animal life will begin\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eagain, the story will begin again, his\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003etiny mouth will curl toward his mother’s\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ebreast, strong mouth of the newborn,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe part that comes knowing what\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eto do. They will meet for the first time.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eShe’ll have those breasts until the end\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eof her life. He’ll have that mouth until\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe end of his.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe life\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe toilet flows and flows\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand nothing stops it\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eso I call a plumber but then\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eit stops on its own\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eso I call back and say it stopped\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand cancel. I have these\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003elittle ideas for making my life\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ea marginally better life.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI can’t think of one\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eright now. Otherwise, I find\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eas soon as I come within range\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe spirit retreats. Before\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003elong, it never existed. As with\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ea celebrity, I will always\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ehave to remember meeting\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe spirit, though the spirit will\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003enever have to remember meeting\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eme. Based on conversations\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI’ve overheard, I think\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003emy children believe the soul\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eis an organ of the body.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI know they believe in heaven.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI hear them talk about it.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBut theirs is a heaven of their own\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003emaking, a place where you can\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003edo whatever you want, eat\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eice cream for dinner, play\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003evideo games with a God who will\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003edrive you to CVS—yes, right now,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eput on your shoes—for a new box\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eof Lucky Charms, a God\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewho will give you full possession\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eof his Apple ID. Theirs\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eis a heaven with no elsewhere,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ea heaven with no hell.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eFor them there are three times:\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe beforelife, which is nothing,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe life, and the afterlife, which is\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eeverything. Who knows? Maybe\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethey’re right. If I washed\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003emy face and brushed my teeth\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand took out my contacts\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eright after putting my kids to sleep\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003erather than waiting until\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ebefore bed, my evenings would be\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ebetter and I’d go to sleep earlier.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThere. You see, I can’t stop having\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe smallest possible ideas. This\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eis the life. After a day of devout\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003esilence, the toilet starts up again.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThis time I’m waiting to see\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eif it’s serious.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003epoem on the inside\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWriting in the silent\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003epart of the morning, before\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe baby and his toys\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewake up and begin\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003etheir strange chatter,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe lawn mower’s insipid\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003egiggle, the cell phone’s\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ehello and goodbye.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe only sound now is that\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eof the cat licking his fur\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ebehind me on the bed.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eIn the short time after\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewe bought this house\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ebut before we moved into it,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI’d sometimes drive by.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI’d stop. I’d park in the carport\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand sneak around back\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand I’d squint into the windows,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ealmost certain I knew what\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eour lives would be like\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eonce we lived inside.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ecold\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWind through the night, cold\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewind to blow the dried skins\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eaway, maybe. We woke to find\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe thousand yellow leaves\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eof the pecan tree covering\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe backyard. What is\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe meaning of this? the villain\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ein the show my children\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eare watching asks, his face to\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe heavens. I think he’s going to\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eturn good, my son says.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAnd I say, Hope so, because\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI know how much he loves a bad guy\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewho just needs one experience\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eof goodness to turn good\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ehimself—good again, finally\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003egood, his evil so simple, just pain\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand fear and shame, evil that begs\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eto be thwarted, to be finished,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003esolved, dissolved, like sugar\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ein water, no more next time, there\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewon’t be a next time, because\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe curse is lifted, the lesion healed,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe disease cured. We thought\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ehe was dead in the end, but then\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eno—look, he’s breathing, he’s\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ealive, he lived. Any of us\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ecould be turned inside out\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003elike that, then right side in—any\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eone of us could suddenly run\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ea finger over the tender spot,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe crack that could widen then\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ebreak apart cleanly, moved by\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003elove, destroyed by love, and replaced\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eby love, a force so strong, a wind\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethat blows cleanly through\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe darkest night, a wind that blows\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe dried skins away, until we rise\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eagain, ready to account\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003efor the damage we’ve done.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003ethe beast is coming\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eis what my daughter\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003esaid all through the first\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003epart of the song, where\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBelle is singing about how\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003esurprised she is to be falling\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ein love with a beast: The beast\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eis coming, right, Mommy?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWhat a story. He is a beast,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ea true beast, with fur and\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ehaunches and claws that slash,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eno metaphor, yellow teeth, very\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ebad attitude, yet a woman\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003estill finds a way to love him.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eIt was alarming how easily\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003emy girl gave over. He’s not so\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003egrumpy anymore, she said,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand look, he took a bath.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eafter the ascension\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eNo one wanted to look at each other.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eNo one wanted to speak, to be\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe first to speak. But we had to.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWalking back to Jerusalem, for instance,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewe had to decide where we were going.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThere was no one to follow home\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eanymore. That day and the day after.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWaking, it was the first thought. This\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eis the feeling of rising with faith alone.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWe had to learn it like a skill. We had\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eto come to understand this would always\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ebe the first thought. Things hadn’t\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eworked out the way we’d thought\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethey would. Eventually, we began dying.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eFunny to say it now, but some of us\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewondered, would it happen to us, too?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBut of course it would happen. This was\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe very promise we’d lived by.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eone way\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWhen I quit smoking it was only because\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI’d come to understand without a doubt that\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI was unable to quit smoking. I knew I could\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003enot do it. I knew that if I wanted to not smoke\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI’d have to maintain the specific circumstances\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethat would keep me from failing to quit\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003esmoking, those specific circumstances being\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethat I not smoke. And it worked, which still\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eamazes me. When our daughter was a baby\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand was learning to put herself to sleep\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand was crying and crying—well, after a while\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI would need to go into her room and make it\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003estop—I just need to make it stop—and the longer\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eit went on, the stronger was my need to make it\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003estop. No, my husband said. She’s wrestling\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewith the devil, my husband said. And we must\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003elet her win. Now I pray, when I pray, understanding\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI cannot pray—okay, fine—and also understanding\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe only way to quit not praying is to enter the arena\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eof prayer, lay hands upon the devil—my devil—and\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003epin it down as long as I can, then a while after that.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003efirst\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThere is a holiness in exhaustion,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eis what I keep telling myself,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003efilling out the form so my TA gets paid,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethen making copies of it on the hot\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand heaving machine, writing\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eStrong start! on a pretty bad poem.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAnd then the children: the baby’s\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003emouth opening, going for the breast,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe girl’s hair to wash tonight\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand then comb so painstakingly\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ein the tub while conditioner drips\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ein slick globs onto her shoulders\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand her discipline chart flaps in the air\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003econditioner at school, taped\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eto a filing cabinet, longing for\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003estickers. My heart is so giant\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethis evening, like one of those moons\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eso full it’s disturbing, so full that\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eif you see it when you’re getting out\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eof the car you have to go inside the house\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand make someone else come out\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand see it for themselves. I want\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eeverything, I admit. I want\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ea clean heart. I want the children\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eto sleep and the drought to end.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI want the rain to come down hard—\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eIt’s supposed to monsoon,is what\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eNaomi said, driving away this morning,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand she was right. It’s monsooning.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eStill I want more. Even as the streets\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eare washed clean and then begin\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eto flood. Even though the man came\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eagain today to check the rat traps\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand said he bet we’d catch the rat\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewithin twenty-four hours. We still haven’t\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ecaught the rat, so I’m working\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eat the table with my legs folded up\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ebeneath me. I want to know\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewhat is holy—I do. But first I want\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe rat to die. I am thirsty for that\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003edeath and will drink deeply of that\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003evictory, the thwack of the trap’s\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ehard plastic jaw, and I will rush\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eto see the evidence no matter how\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003egruesome, folding my body over\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe washing machine to see the thing\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ecrushed there, much smaller than\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI imagined it’d be, the strawberry\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003elarge in its mouth.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ehow has motherhood changed the way you write?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe baby sleeps\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand cries and sleeps\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand cries in fifteen-\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eminute increments\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003efor three hours\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand wakes, unrested,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewanting something,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003esomething I cannot\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003egive him. Meanwhile\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe sheets hold their\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003efamous crumple,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003etheir human scent.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMeanwhile, in the kitchen\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe enchilada casseroles\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewait in the freezer\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003efor their big moment,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethough casseroles\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ecannot wait\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ebecause casseroles\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ehave no desires.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eLook at the oranges\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ein the white bowl\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eon the table. Suddenly\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethey’ve been there\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003efor weeks and have\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ehardened, been\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003erendered inedible,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003edespite appearances.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSuddenly a smell\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ecomes strongly\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003efrom a hidden place\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ein the backyard\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand we cannot\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ediscover it and will\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003enever discover it.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAll we can do is say\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSomething died\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eout thereevery time\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewe go in or out the back\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003edoor.Suddenly it’s deep\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewinter and the baby\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ehas produced one crude\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003etooth and the trees\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ein front of the house\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eacross the street\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eare bare of leaves\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand the people we knew\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ehave moved back\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eto Houston and the house\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ehas been on the market\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003efor going on three months.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eOne day, the blinds were\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eopen all day and all\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003enight, the empty house\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eemitting light, staged\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eby experts, soft\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethrows folded over\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003earmchairs. Still,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eno takers.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe parable of the gifts\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMy son can’t keep the story straight.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eIs he going to come into my room?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ehe asks his sister warily of Santa Claus.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe is so young he routinely needs to be\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ereminded what to believe. Santa is real;\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ealiens are not real. Aliens could be real,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003emy daughter says. Yeah, I guess you’re\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eright, I say.And Jesus Christ is real,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eshe says.Zeus wasn’t real. Zeus was\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ea myth. But Jesus Christ was a real man\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewho walked upon this earth though\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ehe was the Son of God. So I guess\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eshe’smade it to the New Testament\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ein the 100 Bible Stories for Childrenshe bought\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003elast week with her tooth fairy money.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSure you want that one?her father asked\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eat the checkout, and as an answer\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eshe held the book tightly to her chest.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eGod, sometimesI can see the privacy\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eforming around her, like faint light\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eor like the shimmer of oil as it heats\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ein the pan, and it is a great mystery\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eto me, and it is painful to me, because\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eit is lonely to be a person and what she is\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003etelling us with her 100 Bible stories\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eis that she is a person. God, sometimes I step\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003einto this life like stepping into a room\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI can’t remember why I entered, and for\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ea moment I see nothing—I can see nothing,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI can seeit, a space in front of me that is not yet\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003efilled, that could be filled, and will be filled.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eIt’s simple and elegant, without needs, just\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003elarge enough, and sometimes I understand\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethat’s the space my babies came from, were\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003epulled from wailing, and the space\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003emy grandmother returned to, finally, after\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eher long and painful illness, but suddenly, too,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethat morning, with the scent of orange\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eJell-O still present in the room, she slipped\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eaway, was pulled, perhaps, and I imagine\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethat’s the space I’ll enter, too, when I die,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand it’s not unpleasant to think of it,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ean ultimate privacy, though thinking\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eof my children with spaces of their own\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003einto which they will someday disappear\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eis unbearable. It is unbearable, and though\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eit is unbearable, I bear it. That is the agreement\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003einto which I entered when they arrived.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI think maybe I should read ahead to see\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ehow the book handles the Crucifixion.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eOr maybe I should just hide the book\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand pretend I didn’t. I don’t know. I haven’t\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eseen it. Maybe the tooth fairy will bring you\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003emore money and you can buy something else.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBecause, God, I am not prepared to let\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003emy daughter know how the main character\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eof her story dies. Not yet. She, who answers\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eher brother so kindly, with such perfect\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ehonesty, saying, No, the gifts just appear\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eunder the tree; it’s magic, though surely\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eby now she only pretends to believe.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe student\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI wish I were as talented\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eat anything as he is\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eat pulling Derrida into\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ea conversation, any\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003econversation, no matter\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewhat we’re discussing:\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eDerrida. Even once\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewhen he was telling me\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewhy he didn’t have\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe assignment, even then\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eafter a long and aerobic\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ejourney we arrived\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eat Derrida, his white\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ehair and elegant European\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eideas, and it felt good—\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI admit it felt good to finally\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003earrive there—ah, bonjour,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMonsieur Derrida!—\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ebecause at least I knew\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethen where I was, even\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eif it wasn’t where\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI wanted to be. To pretend,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eDerrida said, I actually\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003edo the thing: I have therefore\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eonly pretended to pretend.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI pretend sometimes. Other\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003etimes all I do is pretend.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI’ve created gods this way\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand on occasion I’ve tied\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethose gods together\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003elike they do bedsheets\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ein a movie, and I’ve escaped\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe high tower of myself\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethis way. I’ve made it\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eto solid ground this way.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI’ve landed on the earth.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAnd each time I’ve been\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003esure I’ve actually done\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe thing, but when I look up,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe gods are gone.\u003cb\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cb\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Penguin Books","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46301657628901,"sku":"NP9780143136019","price":19.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780143136019.jpg?v=1767740230","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/the-life-isbn-9780143136019","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}