ARCHIVES
PLEASE DON’T PASS ME BY*
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MURMUR STILL
THE DAY I TAUGHT STARLINGS SOME MOVES TO MURMUR I HAD BEEN TAKING WHITE FLAPPING SHEETS DOWN FROM THE LINE AND I RACED IN THE UNFENCED MEADOW ALFALFA JUST STARTED TO HEAD OUT IF THAT’S WHAT IT IS WHEN IT SMELLS UNEARTHLY LIKE SOME FEET ABOVE THE STARLINGS TURN ON THE WING NOW THERE ARE
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BASKETS & BLANKETS
Note: This is my mother. The last line made me think the photo suitable. I am recovering from a difficult cold subdued by a bottle of Benylin, but it ain’t over yet baby blue. I came to understand that my mother’s second “n” on Susann was conjured in the 60s, though a Susan with one
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LUFTIGEN
I didn’t expect the noise to come with spring’s open windows. Winter was such a quiet affair going door to door. Tight that was the word, air that enters called a draft. Rugs and blankets thrown around everywhere. Now time to break our nails we dare to remember windows can loosen by layers until the
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LAUGHING MAN
Clean shirt dear writer within, a white shirt with orange and cherry jam stains, but properly buttoned. You weren’t ready for anything this morning. I wasn’t ready for anything this morning, except a thorough sponge bath out of my new basin that overlaps my lap. My new medicine chest (I have many medicines) arrived this
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Tired of looking for something to read I’ve challenged my subconscious, to write a story at the very leash some flash fiction that thrives on made up and pretend stuff you know characters that aren’t like you much and you don’t much like me. So an antagonist then, not a protagonist. Tad and Lilly,
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INTUITION
I IS FOR INTUITION (AND LOTTA OTHER THINGS) INTUITION This is your guess the next will be OPEN TUNING my body my wound so tightly wound around my brain vibrates receiving ideas like starlings murmurer swing into every open neuron
... read more.LISTEN DON’T LISTEN
HÖRT NICHT ZU Gott du hast mir als Kind aus Wagen hoch oft gehoben. Die Engeln singen alle Mit Trost und Gedanken, du gibst mir nur eine Sprache zu lernen lachest du mir auf mein Eisen Baum so spuck ich in deine Augen! Du bist Ubu ubu ubu und mein Wieb sagt’s dem Hund Quit
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For now, this poem I wrote today stays here on my website. I’ve no interest in debate, or signalling virtue, though I may change my mind. I admire Duncan Mercredi and others, who do put themselves on Facebook accepting the vulnerability of speaking publicly. ~ At the end of our family meetings when we were
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JAYDEN RYGA’S SPANAKOPITA
Michelle and me hire at least two students every year who work as a team with up to another 2 care aides. We are both full-time wheelchair users Michelle has MS and Diabetes and I have a lot of things, most create pain. I chose to have my left leg beneath the knee be amputated
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