Hark issue one, april 2014

We want some of the same responses as they for whom cathedrals are the phone they whisper into: forgiveness, reassurance.

And despite emails and calls that may arrive a lifetime late we likewise don’t receive them. “I’m alright,” the voice would say. “My work turned out as well as it deserved, like yours.

You may have helped; if not, you’d know.

And had I truly suffered I would be part of the greater silence that no one, you included, cares to hear.

Each night beside my bed a being with the snout of a jackal weighs my heart against the feather of the good; each night I turn away. Yet I think he’s benign: he is like all of us in exile, a god with no myth, a myth without a theme.”