Persephone’s Postcard

The dead, they are always descending    like mustachioed men in Magritte’s painting, so many bowler hats sailing    through a pale blue Belgian sky.   Heavy souls—freighted with evil,    leaden sorrows, or the insomniac stare of bald regret—crash all night    against the stone gates of Hades   and stumble, wrecked, along the […]