Autumn

I used to think of fall as a tragedy of leaves But now that I see the tree, I know it’s just a little housekeeping planned obsolescence and a strategic liquidation- a letting go of that which could harm you when things inevitably change

We are not machines.

We are not machines. Cogs. Production units. FTEs. We are not brands. Channels. Entertainers. Memes. We are not what we see on TV. We are not consumers. Buyers. Shoppers. We are not a marketing demographic. We’re not followers. We are people. Beautifully individual, hopelessly small. We are complicated. Messy. Wrought. Nuanced with joy.  Impermanent and…

{Poetry} Invisible

Today I am going to lay out in the sun On my front lawn – Naked as the day I was born- Warming myself like a cat And watching the neighbors pass by I am going to wander around restaurants and park benches And sit down with all the messy permutations of coupling there Taking…

{Poetry} Two Spaces

When I touch myself the world shrinks to a warm intense tight cocoon a safe place of swift relief but suffocating When I touch another- when I am touched by another- my world instead widens to wrap itself and me around the cosmos and I float unraveled and cool and quiet in the infinite space…

{Poetry} Writer’s Contract

The rules of writing are not handcuffs for the writer Nor a gavel for the reader But a contract between them, ensuring, respectfully, as much as is possible, that Two people, miles, years, and lives apart Might sit down to tea And share one’s ideas Without the other taking things the wrong way so easily

{Poetry} Life Hack

Everything I read the 8 steps to anything – better hair, enlightenment, true love, my dream job, clean bowels – lord, I am tired of bulleted lists to hack my life I want the messy roar of a chainsaw the wild whack of an axe at the base the possibility found in the curious unknown…

{Peanut Gallery} Unmooring

It’s not age alone that focuses my recent navel gazing on the “what do I want?” question. In some deep place, that question has sat idle for years; I’ve just haven’t allowed myself the opportunity to take it out of the box, dust it off, and use it. I’ve dated men who I knew wouldn’t…

{Poetry} Weaving

Each time I told myself the story I wove thicker and thicker threads of hope through it trying to will into existence a beautiful cloth to finally warm my heart in

{Bits} Stormy

There are many times I’ve tried to be the stoic- to be even in my world regardless of the storms – anger, fear, sadness, passion, joy, lust – raging behind my eyes. But I am just not that good at keeping the clouds from passing over my face and the windy sounds of rain from…

{Poetry} Thread Bare

If I would shave the loveliest pieces of me into tiny glitter that you could spread about you absently as you moved about your day- If I would roll myself out to be As thin and malleable as a slip of paper you could tuck into your calendar- If I would shed my feelings and…

{Poetry} Knocking

Loneliness starts as a knocking in my belly before it unmoors my craving for contact and tingles up my spine to open my mouth and cry out a silent anguish

{Peanut Gallery} Polyamory

I have been dating myself for a while now and I have to say, I think it’s going well. I really love when I bring myself flowers for no reason at all, and when I take myself out to a nice dinner and we talk art and poetry and beauty all evening. I love the…