The Folly
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An e-journal of literature and art dedicated to the good, the true, and the foolish.

"We must love to the point of folly, and we are indeed fools, as our Lord himself was who died for such a one as this." 

The Gates of Capitol Hill

5/27/2020

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A meditation on poverty by Mary-Kate Burns.
It is a phantasm, the desire of a desire. There is always the creeping matter of subjectivity, the self-centeredness of personal preference. I want poverty, but I do not want it to be so poor. I can say that I want us to be stripped bare, cut open, letting blood, not counting the cost. But in the end, my heart is small and selective, and I cannot accept this ocean into it. I can only sieve what I think will nourish. 
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The Mortician's Crime

5/27/2020

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Dead dead dead or alive alive? Read this short story by Mary-Kate Burns here.
You really do die as you’ve lived, is what I’ve realized. If you lived as a stranger to everyone, you’ll die as a stranger to everyone. You’ll be buried in a stranger’s suit, made up with a stranger’s face, and arrive before the Lord with a heart as locked up and closed off as it was your whole life. And He’ll give you one look over and say,  “I do not know you,” and close the Gates.
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