I shall never again contrive to stand with soapy bucket in drive— hose too short, too much lather too much muss, fuss and bother. Nor will I do the self-drive through The flashing lights I bump into I see “DRIVE FORWARD” then...
Read MoreSo I look in your direction But you pay me no attention, do you? I know you don’t listen to me ‘Cause you say you see straight through me Don’t you? The air was bone-chilling as the sun began its journey to set...
Read MoreMy boyfriend came with a lot of rope. The day he moved in with me, along with boxes and boxes of his stuff, I was worried that he would fill up every corner of what used to be just me. He’d filled the boxes with the usual...
Read MoreIf we are not stunned into only strained words by the immensity of it, what really do we have to pontificate about? We may call life what we will. Ponzi scheme. Set-up. Scam. Or eternity. Whatever. Won’t you be stunned with me?...
Read MoreI’ve taken my darkness with me into every place I’ve known. Lovely, lots of them. Painful a few. But I’ve taken my dark with me when I’ve gone. It’s the companion that I dream.
Read MoreHow fast a world crumbles. How slowly one gathers again. There is the arriving; there is the going away. There is the train siding with its birds and debris. And waiting. And waiting. There is the falling rain beating, beating...
Read MoreSoapbox orators incessant, Impervious to introspection, Abhorrent of pause, Commune with replicas To quarantine diverse thought. These omnipresent talking heads Flourish in their world where Silence and listening are forbidden....
Read MoreTedium tic-tocs, toc-tics… Wishing to pull the covers over my head, Like when I was a child, I fantasize about this magical, impenetrable protection, Fairy guarded hiding me from the monotony The treadmill of the mundane And the...
Read More“Everything waits, radiant. Life is okay.” — Dorothea Tanning, Between Lives What. Now? Suddenly. They stop. The deadline days, the to-do ticks, the ideas that had preceded whatever had reliably and rushedly come next—and I...
Read More1. Lessons of childhood Like a wolf, I chose hunger until the odds improved. I learned to hold my words like a hand of cards; small fingers, ravaged nails, gripping scheming. To prevent spoilage, I swallowed needs like mother’s...
Read MoreLight through large northern and southern exposed windows make the high-ceilinged house a chapel. The kind of light that turns a face into a portrait, cheeks lineated by shadow. As we enter the hallway midway between windows, we...
Read More(Sunken Palace Cistern, Istanbul) The waters are still, not still. They ripple with sleek gray fish cruising in silent curves among the shadows, between shafts snapped to attention: Justinian legions still. Cool air moves too....
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