In her essay Think of This as a Window Maggie Estep wrote “I fell in love with New York City one day in 1971 when I saw dozens of people blithely stepping over a dead body on the side walk.”

Photo from

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I read that today in The New York Times, in Maggie Estep’s obituary. A novelist, a blogger and a performer of poetry she died on Wednesday after a heart attack. Maybe her heart couldn’t take anymore.
You might see what I am alluding to in one of her poems:


To hell with sticking my head in the oven
I’m happy
I’m ridiculously vengenfully happy
I’m ripped apart by sunshine
I’m estatic
I’m leaping
I’m cutting off all of my limbs

I’m doing circus tricks with a fork.

Happy Valentines Day Maggie, I’ll miss you in the world.