Category Archives: Poetry

Imagining our meeting a cartoon, with us embracing at my house again, you standing travel-weary, driver’s swoon upon your doting face… You’re all the men I ever wanted hands upon my skin, your tired head inside my rayon shirt, your … Continue reading →

This modern chair, its mocha leather cracked and pale from sixteen years’ benign neglect, supports four decorator pillows stacked upon a nightgown sleeveless, oval-necked. The creamy cotton rumples on the chair, its shadowed drapery as smooth as milk. Magenta, silver, … Continue reading →

You say it can’t exclusively be sex we write about – you give those words to me above a flood of big X little x between our sheets of toned typography. But I inside reply to you: why not? Impressed … Continue reading →

Today may be perfection relative to Wednesday evening’s mute anxiety. My son is unconcerned now to forgive a cruel ex-friend, and time was remedy for canine illness. (Shelby wouldn’t try her food and Danny couldn’t cry or grin. This Wednesday … Continue reading →

Respecting whimsy, with its silly grin, its quiet self-amusing attitude, I recognize I like it and begin to celebrate its quality. As crude as silk as rough as cloud all whimsy drifts like morning fog. It’s slapstick’s opposite. As light … Continue reading →

My daughter is conspicuous: as loud as right, as upright as a standing bird. She fire-dreams hot prophecy, endowed with self-renewing love for every word. Flamingo-balanced phoenix: don’t despair, to hear them publish who should journalize. Regard them irregardless; smell … Continue reading →

Impatience was my temper as a child, and I could never list serenity as any teenage asset. I was wild with my lust to have control of me. If increments of wisdom come with age, then maybe I can start … Continue reading →

There’s 15 gone, the news reporter said, and I intoned the numbers to my son: 12 students and a teacher stricken dead and too the pair that brought the bomb and gun. But he corrected me – my teenage sage … Continue reading →

Exchanging Mondays off to have each day some extra time at home, to exercise or write or follow where my fancies lay, today I chose to vacuum. The surprise, discovered where it wedged at least nine years beneath a baseboard … Continue reading →