and jesus was his name-o

When my daughter, Serena, graduated from our neighborhood Christian preschool, I was less relieved that she was kindergarten material than I was that the number of holiday recitals would dwindle.  I had attended three years […]

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3. enjoy beer.

Were I a writer of odes, I’d dedicate a book of them to my beverage of choice.  O, the bitter bite of hops, the sting of bubbles on my tongue, the heady scent of yeast […]

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2. call bullshit

I call bullshit where I see it, and I’m not going to stop, despite the letters from a motivational speaker disguised as The Universe, despite Internet memes that spread like a plague of Airwick flowers, […]

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1. breathe

The nail that holds my kitchen calendar is in the side of a bookcase, and it’s pretty tight despite the hundred times we lean on the pages hanging from it each year.  So my 2013 […]

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love bedes

On the oak bookshelf in Jim Hill’s treatment room—or torture chamber, if you’re me—sits a stone bust of Quan Yin (Kwan Yin, Kuanyin, Guanyin), Chinese goddess of mercy.  If you’re me, she’s an ironic figure, […]

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I’m not not happy. Hope you’re not not happy, too.

“’I’m happyhope you’re happy, too.…sordid details following.’”—David Bowie, “Ashes to Ashes” My face is naturally like this.  At rest, my lips curl slightly downward.  Engaged in an activity like talking or kissing or eating, my […]

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The Tit Show!

I was on WYPR’s “The Signal” this weekend with Aaron Henkin.  Here’s the interview.  For the entire episode, go to The Signal. I did this interview to promote poetry and The Tit Lit Show at the […]

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armed against cancer

In a photograph, Susan Spence is wearing a green swimsuit covered with peace signs, her outstretched arms revealing names written in grease marker. These are the people for whom she will swim the open waters […]

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Me, my father.   Read our story.

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When I started my MFA program at Goucher College, my mind was in a frantic race for a thesis.  Would I write Kisstory: The History of the Kiss?  Would I write The Law of Average: […]

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