Walt Whitman reportedly said that he wished his early work could be dropped into oblivion, well, ditto that, Walt. I believe the only reason that most of us high school kids had our work published in this sweet little journal, Mosaic, was that we were brave enough to submit. Okay, that's the only reason my work... Continue Reading →
I just finished Bruce Springsteen's Born to Run, his amazing autobiography. I have never read an autobiography. Or a biography. Or just about any non-fiction. Try as I might. Every new year's I renew my resolution to read outside of my favorite genres. 'Read non fiction, biography, essays, not just fiction and poetry,' I command myself.... Continue Reading →
"Move the shoes," Thom Sherratt told me. I was 25, newly married, and my husband and I were in counseling. We needed it. We used each other to argue with our own cast of demons, those that crept nightly into our dreams, born of one dysfunction or another, and most of them articulate, funny, and... Continue Reading →
I can't say that I remember the exact moment it happened, I mean it's not like your older brother just suddenly likes you after years of teasing and tricking. For some, sibling love develops very slowly. I do remember the night I noticed something had changed, and my hero, my older brother Pat, saw me as something... Continue Reading →
I grew up in Detroit in a big Catholic family in a big old house. I was the seventh child. We belonged to St.Mary's of Redford Parish. By the time I was in seventh grade, our school was integrated, or in the process thereof. The Parish and neighborhoods were changing. Blacks lived next to Whites.... Continue Reading →
Let’s build a super Wal- Mart’s on Main Street in the heart of 'Merica Mom & Pop’s stores close we’ll breakfast on nachos redefine patriotism: nobody comes, nobody goes. Willaby wallaby woo an elephant sat on you We’ve all heard the secret to Wall Street: mix greed with fear, remove humility, turn lead to gold,... Continue Reading →
I know many introverts. I walk on the edge of introversion myself, and most people who know me, scoff at the idea. "You? An introvert? What?" But those who know me well, know that yes, I am, actually, and happy to have come to grips with this aspect of my personality that I grappled with... Continue Reading →
In these days of rage and reflection, I question everything, everything more than I ever have. One question, always gnawing at the loaf of bread that may be my brain is 'why do I write?' And now, blog. Answering this questions is a life's work for many writers, why? What drives us to do it?... Continue Reading →
Have I been asleep? Just hitting the snooze alarm? Over and over and over. For years? I see my girls passionately being activists. Where did I go? Things I rallied for as a young woman were obtained. Not everything. Not perfection. By far. But so much so that maybe I sat down. Maybe I went to... Continue Reading →
pocket poet 