On Clutter

Last Tuesday, I put the endless stacks of sheets into the closet. Finally. I'm resisting editing that sentence, even though I know it's a bad beginning. It's really a bad sentence in general. But I'm resisting. I want to try writing this piece all at once, badly, just to get something out. In November I… Continue reading On Clutter

On Flight

Scruffy, angelic white puffs blow in the wind outside my plane window. My sister says it's an invasive species. It seems ludicrous that something so beautiful could be so violent. We take off, and the white puffs give way to dead grass, then an expanse of grey sky. I'm thinking about elementary school birthday parties… Continue reading On Flight

On Rage

quiet rage beginning to announceher speechless marriage sweeping through, screaming their Names dancing then, afteronly after only after


there is a time to rest among the soft flowers [they exist whether you are there or not]

Two Truths

Trigger warning: abuse and body image issues. As I read these two journal entries I wrote 6 years ago, I am reminded of how we can hold so many truths within ourselves at once. How we can be fully in our power, and fully outside of it at the same time. I am especially reminded… Continue reading Two Truths

Whitman’s Hands

for Chris There’s something about you that makes my heart humWith what Whitman calls “life”What Cummings calls puddle-wonderand becoming “who you really are” Something about your eyes, playing stars in your headOr maybe your hands, rough and largeBut it isn’t any Thing at all, reallyMy heart hums with youEven if I try to ignore the… Continue reading Whitman’s Hands