The first time my neighbor performed a dirge, We did not encircle her. We did not retrieve her golden scarf from the dirt or wipe the cluster of sweat-mixed sand from her arms and legs and hair. We did not leave our washing to help because she did not do any of these things. Rather, she yelled in Ascending ABs, at her children. She yelled when the youngest spilled her morning meal of a bowl of overcooked spaghetti and it crashed in countable strings on the pavement. She yelled when she couldn...
