Lucy stepped on an ancient landmine outside Girvetz Hall. I talked to her brother, Suvin, about it as we strolled the beach while the med-techs in the aid center tried to piece her back together. "If it had been one of those new ones, I’m not sure there would be any Lucy left," he said, his eyes drifting to the horizon. "Then again, she hasn't really been 'Lucy' since the winter solstice, has she?" I understood his meaning. Everyone did. Just two weeks earlier, I’d found he

That mossy stone there, man-shaped with such care, blindly, it stares at me, and everyone else. Proud gaze, unaware, eroding green eyes and hair, yet somehow it stares, returned gazes for 300 years. And now it sits here: a stone’s new home. Uncertain ancient leer, frequented, and alone, this spectacle is skeptical of ever going home to that stone dead carver, that human he calls father, long buried under fodder who shaped him at such cost, sunken and decayed like me in one

It started when the viewer was young. Too young. Urged to ingest death as a trooper, or a spectator to gladiatorial games, only with a laptop computer. Brothers laugh hysterically, “let's show the kid,” a video of a woman being stuffed full of squid. Full screen, “how about that other one?” A roadside murder with a shotgun. Head exploded like a watermelon — this is something new this New Colosseum offers quite the view! Now let's try to sleep, a day started with ca