Survive high desert No hangovers, drunk dialing Not one shot, no lime Survive
Tequila 2 – Mighty Agave
Tequila! – Mighty Agave
century plant blooms once, celebrates with aplomb a round for the house
Red! I Want that Job – Kiss Me Now!
I'm not much one for make-up. Never have been really except perhaps for those early days of adolescence. When the discovery of blue eyelids and long lashes had a timely empowering factor. I could change how I looked, quite dramatically, or subtly. But I had that power. And I was something. It was that simple. I... Continue Reading →
‘This Dress,’ and Other Musings on Motherhood
This Dress It doesn't fit, Mom this dress, your death it's like a net, in satin wrapped around me, I'm trapped in this collar, I flounder I can't get it right it's not my size I wish I was naked and you had your breath. It's a straight jacket in black, I'm crazy like burlap,... Continue Reading →
Celebrating Smart Women
for my girls, even Riana, who doesn't like poetry The Cranberry Line Follow the cranberry line of dawn, go home reach far, the moon is only a lost star looking for sunrise, for the saffron tide; waves like Aurora’s children on the verge of morning, stretch and rub their eyes. Be a poet. Be that... Continue Reading →
Gray Choices
Gray Choices I come from the dry cleaners chemical steam staining my shallow breath like my brother’s ashes that cannot stay on the mantle watching us wondering where to put them I come from the tulip garden tall stems like picket fences that need painting petals drop and rest in dirty sunshine sullen remnants of the bloom... Continue Reading →
Roots, Worms, and Blossoms: for Maureen
Roots, Worms, and Blossoms How will the promise of age rest upon my skin? As it does the forgotten apple? The sad Macintosh left under a tree withered and no good for a pie? Will time brand me with pinches smudge my shiny skin and deplete my rightful size? Or will I be the old... Continue Reading →
‘Protecting Women,’ a found poem, Aisle 7, Walgreens
This is one of my favorite performance pieces, and while I haven't performed it in a while, my daughter Riana and I were in Walgreen's recently, and it came to mind, so I pulled it out, and thought I'd share. Imagine me on a stage, wearing a pink pussy hat, of course. There would be... Continue Reading →
Life Is Only a Borrowing of Bones, a journal poem
I journal, somewhat obsessively. Nearly every morning. The sunrise and me. I write. It rises. I have had this partnership with the rising sun since I was a wee little thing. My day is just not right if I don't begin it writing. (And funny, the day wouldn't be right if the sun didn't rise!)... Continue Reading →
My Dad Kneeling in Front of a Flower Bed on Abington in Detroit
My Dad Kneeling in Front of Flower Bed on Abington in Detroit I look for lilacs to steal or forsythia even lilies of the valley, those shy bells of fragrance any handful hanging over a fence in an alley along the sidewalk in this mountain town some forgotten flower I can take home each spring... Continue Reading →
pocket poet 