practice
By the time I kissed someone I liked, I was good at it. Pillows, posters of Peter Frampton, record albums with David Cassidy on their covers don’t kiss back, but…
By the time I kissed someone I liked, I was good at it. Pillows, posters of Peter Frampton, record albums with David Cassidy on their covers don’t kiss back, but…
My husband's and my love affair began in November of 1981 or 2—I've forgotten, but does a year really matter when we're talking about a relationship that has spanned about…
For the past couple of years, I've been writing what I call the Facebook Poems. I ask, as a status update, for my friends to submit words, and each supplies…
part twoFor breakfast Monday morningI cook my daughter oatmeal perfect ratio of salt to sugar to oatsserved with teaspoon, splash of creambecause I am a bad motherout of milk since…
things in the roaddriving home from the marketprime fillet and avocadosin bags beside hershe sees a thing in the road—a thing in the road is always a bombthat detonates the…
fall's fabricthe fabric of fall is a narrow gleaming stripbetween bloom and detritus,at once fresh and frayed.autumn is weaver, seamstress, singer.she is the gleeand the lament.birds and squirrels scavenge the…
Lest you think I'm playing countless rounds of Bejewelled Blitz and neglecting my writerly duties, I thought I'd make a quick appearance as sort of a placeholder while I wait…
O, a long winterwatching the crowsballet dancerson the windO, out the windowonly place she goescarried safelyon their wingsbut they won’t share their secretsshred all the evidencethey won’t grant her wishesO,…
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…