Issue 521 | The Sun Magazine

May 2019

Readers Write

Beyond Belief

A ghost in the house, the police at the door, a phone call in a dream

By Our Readers
One Nation, Indivisible

May 2019

Featuring Poe Ballantine, Pramila Jayapal, Paul Hawken, and more.

The Dog-Eared Page

It’s All Happening To All Of Us, All Of The Time

It is impossible to be a human being connected by affection to others and not be vulnerable to pains beyond our own.

By Sylvia Boorstein
Quotations

Sunbeams

Government is a tool, like a hammer. You can use a hammer to build or you can use a hammer to destroy.

Molly Ivins

The Sun Interview

The Great Work

Ralph Nader On Taking Back Power From The Corporate State

Every major advance for justice in our country took no more than 1 percent of adults — around 2.5 million people — with public opinion behind them, mobilizing to change government policy. If you’ve got 2.5 million people, you can recover our country, recover our government, recover our hopes and dreams.

By David Barsamian
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

The Apostate Of Orange Street

I was dressed and ready for church, waiting while the others bustled about in preparation, when a sudden conviction took hold of me: “I’m not going,” I told my mother.

By Kelly Daniels
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

Mirage

Someone has died. Someone I loved the way I love my own hands. And I am alive in the bright, fading day, flying above the earth and sea.

By Sallie Tisdale
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

My Book Life

A book’s characters always wait for us. No matter what happens to me during the day, Kerouac remains exactly where he was yesterday. He never moves without my permission. I reanimate him at my whim.

By Sparrow
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

The Library

We need constant proof that we’re not alone. And if we don’t see a companion, we strain to hear one in the dark. And when there is no whistle in return? I’m here to tell you, we will make one up.

By Jennifer Bowen Hicks
Fiction

When He Was Gone

I felt I was supposed to pretend I was a little sad he was gone — at least, for the first few days. I told him I missed him, because I did. I’m not a complete monster.

By Lucie Britsch
Poetry

Sightings

Shortly after her death, Mother Teresa appeared / in a cinnamon bun in Nashville, Tennessee. / She looked serious, perturbed even, as though / this epiphany were an inconvenience.

By Donovan McAbee
Poetry

Also Known As

If you are more close to the dying / than you would like to be, then it is time for the sky / to grow larger than the earth, than the sea even.

By Jim Moore
Poetry

Out Of Our Reach

I’m a new face in the therapy group. / My wife’s ultimatum drove us here tonight. / And when my turn in the circle comes / to say what I’m feeling right now, / my tears surprise even me.

By Jim Ralston
Poetry

For My Friend Who Told Me Don’t Celebrate The Dead

how can I tell him that every day I see her / smiling in her coral blouse, her matching lipstick, and her sunglasses, / sitting alfresco at our favorite Milwaukee cafe

By Andrea Potos