In all seriousness, I love ants. Not in the house, per se, but on a sidewalk or grass blade, or how about a dandelion stem? Just an ant, carrying, what? Ten times its weight? Eighty times? Eight hundred times? Who cares. Look at the beaded thing, an ambulatory speck of necklace, shred of leaf in…
Lovers are two noses, tips touching in the cold, “Eskimo kisses,” (as the Inuit roll their eyes). But follow me here. Skin meeting skin, the heat of breath exchanged, the winged smoke that flies from sighs in January air – those are the things that turn your belly inside out. Until you’ve rubbed each other…
Where is poetry, if not in soft snow, slipping slowly from a crying sky, releasing its babies, like we do, when they’re ready to fly? #KatherineCoffeehouse
Have you ever stepped out on that wide first step, the landing, the top one, looked down like you were on a ledge and said, “That’s a long, steep way. Better hold the railing”? That’s called getting old. We used to slide down the stairs, butts bumping against the edges, turning carpet into a slide,…
Weird weather tonight, warm November, with a moaning wind that makes the dogs a little nutty. They stiffen their ears, tilt their heads, like something’s about to happen, all of us waiting for meaning to emerge from the darkness. #KatherinesCoffeehouse
Adderall forces a mind to its knees like a hostage. But it never worked that way for me. See, I’m a multi-tasker, which means I get very little done a day unless I sit for hours (or at least until my butt hurts). Laugh if you want. I’m part of a trend – procrastination nation.…
Pain is an aging police officer. It sleeps lightly, still on call. It moves slowly sometimes, especially in the morning, when it slides its legs over the side of the bed, puts sore feet on the floor, and stands. But it always carries a pistol.
I finally figured out why I’m all about peace-wanting. But does it really matter why? Peace is a staple food. We starve without it. So we eat each other’s souls instead, until we’re just about dead. Stupid zombies.
how late is too late? when tomorrow remembers today but you forget who’s in the picture? that soft-grinned girl in the pale blue dress – she almost looks like Mother Mary. did you forget to pray? it’s all right. she’ll forgive you either way. Easter’s coming, after all, so there’s still time. there’s still time.…
- « Previous
- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
August 17, 2017 After Charlottesville
Ten years ago, I called them Nazis. It just kind of came out, you know? I’d climbed beyond angry – how could they be so mean, making hate a public policy? I really didn’t know the old ghosts I’d disturbed. I was told to shut up. For my own good, they said. But I was…