Language
The irony of language: it’s a gorgeous word. Say it out loud: language. Say it for the sake of linguistics.
Off
Turn off the morning news. Go to the old stereo. Turn on the blues. Because if anyone knows the trouble
Virus
Every day is fear now, blocking out potential, masking the possible, making it hard to breathe. That’s how sickness works.
Interview Tips for Artists and Writers
Yesterday, I had the distinct pleasure of meeting with the National League of American Pen Women, D.C. Chapter. They asked
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Sorry, Emily
Because I could not stop for death, he kindly passed me by – he, dark winged and disappointed. Me, content
Following
That time in the Mexican mountains, I said I was being followed. It wasn’t so much that you listened (though
Every Atom
That day you hummed the song of myself – I assume you assumed I’d fallen for it. I did. Have
Tin
Lighting the lavender votive, I remember you and me, vitamins, mood stabilizers, coffee. And that little tin of scones, blue
Tossed
Paper sheets the floor, tossed with two red pens, caps, White-Out, and angst. Another manuscript salad gone wrong.
Pawn
You brought it to the pawn shop, the only silver I’d ever owned. Perhaps I’ll buy it back. Save it
Recall
Recall waves bye like a tired baby, confusion puckering, the right words already asleep, unintelligible taking over. No one seems
Spring Thaw
Remember when the sun offered us just enough to turn snow in the road to puddles? Mom said the wanted
Movie
In the cinema, pudgy recliner holding me in its vinyl hand, your own hand holding mine – I want to
Monday Morning Revival
Hope leaked out of the lunch bin, into my laptop bag, messing up the expected. What is this new Monday
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Zoo Animals
Always up a hill smell of heaviness and hay the elephant house -Katherine Gotthardt #KatherinesCoffeehouse
The Fall
These dark, autumn mornings, and yesterday’s indifferent rain, the calendar bothered by subsiding sun, and some made up bullshit –
Statement of the Times
Fear is an ugly book cover. Crack open the spine. Read past the first chapter. Decide if it’s fiction. Or
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Step
It’s why I didn’t squash the horsefly, merely walked back inside. It’s why I captured the rat, freed it
Ostrich
I’m afraid of ostriches. Not metaphorical ones (though head in the sand can be worse than a rotting pecan disguised
