Everything You Need to Know About Praying

The Falling Leaf Review


I do not recall the last time I said the “Hail Mary” with any devotion; nor do I the last time I recited it aloud in Latin, as I had been taught to do by my dad, a Puccini-loving cop from Brooklyn who used to walk the Fulton Street beat and was the 80th precinct mid-wife. I recall the times–what? What acts events persons wants desires needs do I recall? All of them or some of them at least in fragments now? What of or what about my Dad and I  do I recall, could I recollect . . . together sitting around recollecting times he delivered babies in cabs, on buses, in coffee shops or other stores; or on the sidewalk on Fulton Street in Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn. Too many people did not call an ambulance, instead my Dad or the Precinct, which then meant my Dad if he…

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