Monthly Archives: May 2012

House At Dusk, 1935, Edward Hopper This place holds my bones but not my heart. Just silent stone and steel and fading sunset. No ocean view and no ……………….you. . Written for The Mag. 

Photo by Daryl Edelstein, mosaic by Isaiah Zagar. My left dimple is indigo Tahoe sea glass tumbled by time and tide and troubled moon. Right eye is favored aggie marble, pressed above cold-cracked dinner plate cheekbone. Lips are freckled in … Continue reading →

Ferris Wheel, by Flickr You were supposed to kiss me at the top. The fact that you didn’t know that rumbles my guts worse than that crazy Tilt-a-Whirl ride I only went on because you wanted to and the spark … Continue reading →

  Scrape my tongue for brittle words absent austere barnacles drenched in sea and salt, collect these chalk-drawn flinty things that blur and slur and dis -appear, betray more burnished skins. This swollen cocoon is rough with my becoming; this … Continue reading →

  I was blessed to be interviewed over at Through the Eyes of Meena Rose. Meena is an amazing poet, a passionate mom, and has become one of those incredible friends I’ve “never met.” While you’re over at her site, … Continue reading →

Through it all, crisis large and small (the rough beginning and the long, slow fall) I keep my ……..lips zipped ……..mouth buttoned. And then, I snap. ………………TTie one on …………………………………need a nap. . Fireblossom over at Imaginary Garde with Real … Continue reading →

After reading between the lies and deciphering your rage, splintering my crimson cage here’s one thing I know to be true: I’m final ….–ly over ………..you.    . Joseph Harker over at Naming Constellations has invited us to play with color. … Continue reading →

It’s windy today and I.do.not.like.wind. (there’s some metaphor for change there somewhere, if you look deep) but it’s time to write something anyway even with the howling and the creaking and the allergy air assaulting my nose. The trees seem … Continue reading →

1. First, you must thrust your fists into ribcage, free your heart. 2. Fold the edges back together, stitch with saltwater string, and song. 3. Find what’s left, puddled behind bone, break it loose; exhale, strong. .

Seize these remote edges, extent of darkness split-spilt -sunk; unwind, release this sacred skeletal shrine too long tarried, ripened in reason and hewn in hope, old bones creaking in stubborn breeze, strung a -loft, braided loose at the nape of … Continue reading →