Tennessee Valley Authority BY ISABEL DUARTE-GRAY The corpse boat split the lilies in a black and heaving ribbon in a final day on earth. This lake ain't lake the way a god shapes lakes with claws of ice. A living man remembers when this hole was not a place of many waters but a city drowned in just a day. Underneath the lilies can't you see the roofs where finches threw a nest for sowing panic grass and babies. There was brides made in this place where herons sweep at corners. Mudcats breed here now their knowing whiskers rooted. Home the only [...]