Sunday, October 28, 2012


“Don't use the phone. People are never ready to answer it. Use poetry.” 
― Jack Kerouac

is the snapshot
of your life beginning
on forgotten sidewalks.
you have spent
sporadic time
kicking, and
conversing with my
dad.  Back and forth.

One raggedy day

after lunch
at the old Desert Inn Appleby's
dad left a tip
for our waitress,
yelled across the bar
"use this towards charm school."
Beautiful insane in me,
baby, everything is
alright forever, forever and forever.

 beautiful insane deven...i guess touching another kid under the chin means something really derogatory.  who knew?  deven knew.

Thursday, October 25, 2012

a case of "i"

i stopped writing after finishing my mfa in writing.  other self indulgent practices took over.  today i wear the same t-shirt for the 33rd day in a row; it is a long, sleeveless, black, sake pistols that covers my stomach.  today in the yard the hummingbird kept trying to put its beak into a closed magnolia flower, the spicket is dripping more rapidly, and a huge rat walked across the fence.  i do not like shopping nor do i like eating unless it is under specific circumstances.  "allentown" by billy joel is a terrible song, but michelle pfeiffer in her red dress in the fabulous baker boys is likable.  these hands are beginning to look as my mother's hands.  as a child each time i noticed the wrinkles in her hands i cried.  things mattered deeply then.  the law of diminishing returns takes hold, so much so that i can drink a case and still be on my feet.  the holy and the bitter is unintoxicating. but even on my feet, today, the beauty of dust in the sunlight around my children's hair gets me lightheaded.  only seven weeks left until we have the hair of another in our tribe.
sake pistols shirt <3 p="">