Note: Originally published in the May, 2016 Washington Park Profile. Iliff School of Theology, located at the corner of Iliff Avenue and University Boulevard, celebrates its 125th anniversary this year. To commemorate the anniversary, the school has planned a year of events and celebrations. On the horizon: a 50th anniversary celebration in April of the Martin Luther King speech “Beyond Vietnam,” a speech written by former Iliff Professor Vincent Harding. Sheikh Ibrahim Kazer

Note: Originally published in the May 2017 Washington Park Profile. By now, almost everyone in South Denver and many others from around the world have heard the news: The International Church of Cannabis at 400 S. Logan St., located in the former Mt. Calvary Apostolic Church, opened April 20, the unofficial holiday for cannabis fans. But what is its exact purpose? The church or venue—what it is depends on who you’re talking to—staged a tiered opening on April 20 with an open-

Sometimes the completion of a goal can feel like its unravelling, the complete incorporation of a new skill its dismissal… There is a letting go, it seems. And there we are again, just ourselves, seemingly back where we started. I hate the saying: “everywhere you go, there you are.” Because it’s not true. And yet… I said to my wife tonight I am scared of my sadness; scared of its persistence. I feel lost, and I do often. Even as my son is soon to arrive (due August 16). Even

Of Being Numerous, 12 ‘In these explanations it is presumed that an experiencing subject is one occasion of a sensitive reaction to an actual world.' the rain falls that had not been falling and it is the same world . . . They made small objects Of wood and the bones of fish And of stone. They talked, Families talked. They gathered in council And spoke, carrying objects. They were credulous, Their things shone in the forest. They were patient With the world. This will never r

Even Wind Must Work Heavy, the eyes are waked into. Another small town as if a dream, Each one a glass forest, Passing headlights like metal birds. Faint din gathers, resonates as a chime : The full moon. Rising from bed damp, bare, Cooling in the lunar air, feeling my sex, Draping myself in the half-white dark. The kitchen clock chips away Longingly, without spite. The just-open window, The table’s crumbs in shadow, Some dirty floor… Looking back at her s

Pacific Starfish | On the middle day we saw them, As if we had to be evenly distant from everything made by man—both approaching and...