feeding the goddess

I’ve known Christine for nearly a quarter century, and she’s always been extraordinary. You could tell by looking at her that she didn’t merely walk on the wild side; she…

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lunatic fringe

This old poem about knitting and unknitting, pulling together and coming undone, seems to suit me right now. I'm whipping yarns into a frenzy while I'm stuck in a chair…

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scar tissue

The other morning, I called my mother to tell her something. Her voice sounded shaky, like she was about to cry. “What’s the matter?”“I’m having a meltdown today,” she said,…

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