And so another cycle of NaPoWriMo begins! Although I've been writing intermittently over the past year, I've neglected to post on here (oops). Much of what I've been writing has been about processing grief. In September, my grandmother died suddenly but not unexpectedly. The first poem I wrote for NaPoWriMo last year was about her,... Continue Reading →
el fin
Titan silhouettes cast on the wall Dust mites move with alacrity at footfalls trembling the ground The quaking earth takes shallow breaths Men come, gods depart
Discernment
St. Therese sent me flowers. An altar of red roses - I pleaded for white the first Novena. The second, I begged for red or white or pink or yellow or black but not a wedding cake adorned with orange roses. It was too cruel an action, a brutal honesty. Why rend my dreams for... Continue Reading →
Old Town Alexandria Painted in Sepia Tones
I submitted this piece to a "Poetry in Public" contest/effort in February. Received my official 'no thank you, but please submit again' bcc email this week. 0 for 2 on acceptances this year. But I'm happy enough to be writing pieces I like enough to let someone scrutinize, so I'll take that as a win?... Continue Reading →
The politics of flowers
Another late night/ last-minute submission. Couldn't come up with quite the right closing lines, so I chose ones that made me laugh. Spring has born a litter of dandelions half trampled underfoot, yellow carnage sullying concrete paths. No daisies dally with the weeds. They are kept – over there in a manicured panorama, taking up... Continue Reading →
the emo-girl glam
Distress stretched over years, the lip caught but beginning to peel. When it snaps, will it sling me forward, backward? Too fast for contrails a whizzing sound & a flash.
The tenth hour/ chasing the green fairy
The courtesan is dead. Curtains drawn and lights dimmed. Love has fled into the night, fearful of what may come.
The eleventh hour
Off to sleep when the husband asks, "Hey, did you write your poem today?" I offer to you, dear reader, my thoughts in haiku form on "How to Get Away with Murder". A day home sick, TV Do they get away with it? Shondaland surprises
multivariable methods
A professor of mine once said that Old, white men are prone to transforming statistics into personal memorials. Oh, but what these legends become. I wonder if Wald haunts these halls, slamming doors and stomping up and down those narrow steps, a proper hissy fit, when my students ask, “Why can’t we just use a... Continue Reading →
& I shall name him Victor
He told me, “If we move to St. Andrews then we can get a dog.” Here, he maintains he is like a dog, close enough to a dog – he is shaggy, he is smelly, he brings mud into the house, shakes his tail when I walk through the door. Like a dog, but not... Continue Reading →
dragging the lake 