The Actress

May 4, 2012 § 5 Comments

Trying to balance
The doing
And the writing
About the doing
Not many
Stories left
That I can
Tell myself
I love being anyone else but me
Maybe I need to change a dose
I pull tides of bitterness
Like an evil moon
If I chance submersion
You chance
Being exposed
To my new form
Demand the moon
Get the cheese
Please God
Please say
I’m like no other
Cracker jack idea
When we’re all alone
What’s my prize
For digging down deep
No cereal box treasure map
To happy
I’ll make something of nothing
And get back to you
All new plans
Point at and laugh
The old new plans
Couldn’t I exhale and be better?

Growing Babies

May 1, 2012 § Leave a comment

Of the human garden
Its equal opportunity
Short mercy
Swallow and dissolve
Ruby bullets
Capacity to know
Less successful at forgetting.
You want them to be silly hearts

Warm April

May 1, 2012 § 1 Comment

Boats back
On the dock
Rubbing sleepy eyes

To Not Look Back

April 3, 2012 § 6 Comments

The crows, floating

With the wire

Black licorice

Under their claws

Beseeched not to pause

The south, they went

For He Whose I Am

March 28, 2012 § 2 Comments

The bus had been 19 hours and 12 minutes of wasted time.

“What were you thinking?”
“I don’t know. I obviously wasn’t thinking, judging by your reaction.”
“Go home.”

She was now seated on the bench at the bus station, under the pretense of waiting for the next bus. In her hands, she held the pocket watch.

“That one.”
“This one? Miss, this one is an expensive watch.”
“I know.”
“Ok. Cash or charge?”
“Is it extra to engrave?”
“No, Miss. It’s complimentary. I will get you a sheet of paper.”

For he whose I am.

Counting her money again, she hesitated from buying a ticket. Why did she think he would come and stop her? Just because she came so far? Held back this long, her tears were heavy, overripe and finally fell like devastating bombs on the dry skin of her hands.

Feeling better after her cry, she stood up with purpose to buy her ticket and return home. She would write the whole thing off as an experience, an adventure, and fodder for her work. Maybe she would even get a book out of it…

“Violet!” Then, he was there.


March 26, 2012 § 3 Comments

I love words


syllables long

That Explains The Butter

March 22, 2012 § 6 Comments

My husband found the loaf of bread hidden, near my side of the bed.

Where Am I?

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