Poetry: America is Loving Me to Death by Michael Kleber-Diggs
    acrostic golden shovel
America is loving me to death, loving me to death slowly, and I
Mainly try not to be disappeared here, knowing she won’t pledge
Even tolerance in return. Dear God, I can’t offer allegiance.
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Lyrical: Comment (If All Men Are Truly Brothers) by Wilco
A child was born yesterday/Nothing but an innocent babe/Someone sowed a bitter seed/How could it grow but a bitter weed?

Art: Ute, Native American Cradleboard

Quote: “I felt my lungs inflate with the onrush of scenery – air, mountains, trees, people. I thought, “This is what it is to be happy.” – Sylvia Plath

Recipe: Tomato and Parmesan Risotto

Anywhere But Here: Murals of Dozza, Dozza, Italy