About

She’s Taking Notes 2011-2018

• Middle age November 10, 2018
  desert of my life there were things I never meant to take root in spite
• An education November 10, 2018
  The children scribble on the bathroom walls, and a nation tucks its guns into bed.
• Forever give me sadness any day November 8, 2018
  To my right, “they have good coleslaw.” From across the table, “it’s chopped instead of shredded, that’s why.” A minute later to my left, “they have good coleslaw here.” And farther down, “yes, it’s the best coleslaw in town.” It continued like this awhile longer, the buzz of hearing aids, the comfort of repetition and […]
• Serve me up, piece by piece November 4, 2018
  serve me up, piece by piece what good am I to myself take my hand and write the words that will untether hearts and minds take my feet and lead the refugees out of war, furthermore take my arms, open them take my shoulders and lift the young women above the oppression experienced by their […]
• A Tetractys June 11, 2018
  Raw sticky honeycomb between your teeth, and honey flows from the warmth of your mouth. A prompt from http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2018/06/fussy-little-forms-tetractys.html
• Queen Mary June 2, 2018
  We made love on a haunted ship, leaning out the porthole under a full moon on Halloween. Ten years later,  I remember your laugh. It's the warmest sound in the world,  happy, sleepy and sometimes high. My heart feels like your bedroom candle,  the one made of psychedelic colors that melted down the side of […]
• I think about the smell of the earth May 20, 2018
  I think about the smell of the earth often in the spring, scent of freshly fertilized fields wafting softly over morning dew. My nose instinctively crinkles and my emotions turn instinctively annoyed, but I let the fertilized earth fill my lungs and I am filled with love and a sense of protection over this place. […]
• Slipping May 14, 2018
  We're slipping away I said your face told me to elaborate. Away from what I don't know from where we came. I have amnesia every day a different day but maybe not. Suspended in jelly my slow thoughts follow my tendons visibly moving under my skin. I am made of puppets you said I don't […]
• Elegy May 6, 2018
  Writing, rewriting an elegy almost daily makes her feel more real to me like back in ninety three we were so silly always laughing our future planning years together spanning still now I'm weeping sweeping, piecing together broken feelings of someone gone but never dead to me trying to find the remedy too blind to […]
• Inverted landscape April 26, 2018
  But if I could just cup the base of your neck in my hand and pull you to meet me, breath to breath your mouth to mine I might be able to experience you all of you at once, instead of in pieces. But only after we share a cup of loose-leaf tea and gentle […]