The Menstrual Ghost

To Sharon Olds and Pablo Neruda (RIP): Thank you for making odes amazing She lives inside me still, after all these yearsas quiet as a drop of blood sliding down a swollencanal. She wasn’t always so noiseless, so white, she waslush and screaming vermillion like a flycatcher caughtin a uterus. She’d stain anything that happy,... Continue Reading →

I Am A Lithium Atom*

I Am a Lithium Atom Always on the verge of instability, unreliability my isotopes embrace energetically although it is with low bindability. No wonder I can’t keep a man forever. They hover around me like my electrons hitching a fast ride to the furthest flight out. They play the shell game with my unstable heart.... Continue Reading →

Where Have You (I) Been? or Haikus on Joy

Where Have You Been? Please tell me the days of CovInsanity have not ripped away your hope, or your health, or, heaven forbid, your loved ones. For me, the tug at my positive outlook on the world, the one I eventually return to after days of down or blue or even bluer, has been as... Continue Reading →

If the World Was My Child

If the world was my child, fitful and sick in bed I’d put my cool hand gently on your warm forehead I’d offer you a little toast, some chamomile tea I’d ask you what story you wanted me to read If ugly fever dreams startled you and made you so afraid I’d hurry to your... Continue Reading →

Arthritis? The Alps? August in April? Let’s Just Call It Aging

  for Flo Hart Arthritis I remember watching my dear friend Jimmy’s mother, Flo, scoot, literally, or squiggle, like a fish out of water, across the kitchen floor to travel from one cabinet to the next gathering what she needed to put dinner together. I offered to help, and she thanked me with her always... Continue Reading →

Slut-Shaming

Charged My daughters have each accused me of this: Slut-shaming. I didn’t really know the term, but I knew exactly what they meant the minute they said it. And they were right. Proud I was embarrassed, and this was not a case of someone calling the kettle black. I raised these smart feminists, and they... Continue Reading →

Online Dating at 60?

No. 1* Online Dating at 60? She watches the javelina’s nose breathe against the glass puffs of steam like cotton batting as if the black snouted beast had every intention of staying through sunrise right there beside her abelia. Her ballerina legs tendu with just a trace of leftover length, of grace like pink tights... Continue Reading →

I Can Only Bake Bread

I Can Only Bake Bread for him so I will warm the kitchen perfectly for proofing like old lovers who know the best place for rising. I will wear my red sundress in my humid kitchen it fits as if I was a girl hungry and wild baking bread in her humid kitchen. Remember? I... Continue Reading →

Measure Me

Measure Me (From scraps on the dash board.) Measure me with pie with hands like a horse with a protractor circle me with the absence of approval point me in the direction of next or blueberries Measure me with poetry published or piled like primrose opening only at night patient in the darkness drawing goddesses... Continue Reading →

I See You

I See You Sitting atop the wobbly table afraid of the shadows that don’t leave after the angry door said it again those words frozen in the slam fashioned like a cartoon balloon with expletives and small cold birds they hover above the jam shivering you say into the leftover darkness “But it’s never ‘for... Continue Reading →

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