Relapse

Relapse for those addiction have left behind Side by side like cushions on the couchthey slide into each others’ angles eachothers’ next as close as lint in Levi’spockets or freckles like chapstickon each others’ lips noodles in a bowlso salty so close they are each others’exhale laugh and sigh watching theirshows at night she absorbs... Continue Reading →

There Lives a Wish in Anguish

The New York Times published a bit last month about languishing. How so many of us are stuck in an odd limbo, a languishing, a time in which we are not necessarily thrilled about anything, or not much anyway. And a time in which we are not quite in that state of panic or surprise,... Continue Reading →

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 →

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 →

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 →

Losing Teeth

No. 15 Will a pulled tooth return as a phantom? Like a leg or an arm is said to do? Will there be a ghost in my mouth? Will it bite the hygienist's finger next time she goes in to probe. "Gotcha!" She'll pull away holding up a sore finger wondering what happened. I'll feel... Continue Reading →

Period Myths, or a Blood-letting

  Oh how the blood stories continue. Here are two pieces that look at the fiction around menstruation, and the truths. My own poem "All the Protection You Need", which quotes a litany of sanitary product packaging text, and I've re-posted right here beside today's book review "New Book Busts Myths About Menstruation Spread by... Continue Reading →

Go on a Kiss Adventure

  Every kiss adventure begins with one kiss. The first one. First kisses, as in the first time you kiss a person whom you have never kissed, as in a kiss kiss--not a grandma’s peck or baby’s burble, although those are pretty wonderful--but the first kiss with your crush. First kiss with your date. Your... Continue Reading →

A Threefer*

Poetry Month, Poem A Day, Nos. 13, 14, 15 Mockingbird Noisy old girl alone with your songs sitting in a rocking chair on a starry night whistling on a branch jabbering like an old girlfriend carrying on and on in conversations nobody really listens to you maybe the moon or me staying up past my... Continue Reading →

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