Sunday, May 1, 2016


is my new


of inveterate

When ice gets tired,
it slips out of its winter bones
and comes down April easy
on my sill where the flower box keeps.

Kiss me.
Why not?
They sell
indemnity for indiscretion
by the pick-up window at the exit door
of the local concession. 

Inscribed and intended for Flash 55 at Real Toads.


Thursday, April 28, 2016

The Lion In The Goldfish Bowl

"Poor great dull thing," they said about the lion in the goldfish bowl.

"She's out of place," they said about the lion on Main Street with bowl shards in her skin.

"Wtf?" they said about the lion at the dinner table, the date who won't be back.

"She's cool as fuck," said another lion, with golden eyes.

Off the top of my kitty-cat head, for MZ's challenge at Real Toads. 48 words. There were two more but I ate them.

Wednesday, April 27, 2016

Book Review: "Leaving Time"

Leaving TimeLeaving Time by Jodi Picoult

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

This isn't a perfect book but it is a good one and it is a book that was entertaining throughout, in my opinion. Yes, there are a couple of characters that come straight from central casting: the alcoholic gumshoe haunted by the case that got away, and the plucky young girl who is just plucky plucky plucky until you kind of want to wring her neck. However, the elephant researcher and her floridly bipolar husband are more than enough to keep the pages turning, especially when a whole batch of fascinating elephants comes with.

There's a murder mystery, a missing persons case, and a ghost story all rolled into this thing, and I never once didn't enjoy what i was reading. Rather, I found myself not wanting it to end. As pure entertainment, or as a glimpse into the majesty of elephants, I would give this novel 5 stars, but I'm giving 4 because of the two cardboard characters.

View all my reviews

Monday, April 25, 2016

Mourning Dove

 "This is what it sounds like, when doves cry" --Prince Rogers Nelson

The Moon, secretive and flighty,
turned her dark side and within that cradle I was born--
a dove of dust fed glue-milk and told to sing.

The Sky was not crazy but loved Crazy's eyes.
His silent daughter collected sand timers and seahorses because
all girls love horses; all girls hear ship's bells 
and can feel those same ships foundering.

The Moon kept two faces in a sea shell--
one for the Sky and the other to use as a trowel
to create The Sea of Suicide and The Sea of Insanity.

Every mother takes her child to the beach;
every keeper takes her doves to the temple with a good sharp blade
wrapped in her skirts for utility, for God, and for the fucking hell of it.

The Moon is dead now, dead before, dead always with only death to hand down,
but Mama, I breathe and I sing just to spite you
The Sky we both loved is gone and my heart is full of sea water and stones.

I put my song where the Moon was,  
as beautiful as I can make it, that it might shame you,
and bring you back just to die again
from the music of my mourning, the lightness of my empty bones.

for "Where Do I Come From" at Real Toads. 

Sunday, April 24, 2016

I Have Eaten Stars

 “The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves.”
William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar

I have eaten stars
but they brought their own gravity with them--
their own geography with them--
and now they unbalance me, so that I lurch and roll as I fall.

On the surface of the sun, 
everyone is blind and everything is done gingerly--
every effort undertaken temporarily--
taking a million generations just to create a gesture that is gone in an instant.

Uncross your fingers and kiss me.
Meteors remember, but are too thick and stupid to talk--
language eludes them and they are as celibate as nuns.
I would forsake all liturgy if you would only be God's recollection and bless me.

I have eaten stars
but their light is checkerboarded inside my skin--
their light diffuses until I am dizzy and that is when
I lie and tell you I was home all day,

wrote nothing and

sold your name for a song.

for Kerry at Real Toads.


Thursday, April 21, 2016


We took vows,
two fools stepping off the cliff,
full of the soulful certainty that marks conquerors and mental patients.

Rome blessed us, I suppose,
just as it mocked Hannibal,
driving him to fits of genius and savagery.

When you haunt my dreams, I think about the elephants.
I know that um-thousand poor nobodies met their death in the mountains
just to satisfy one man's idee fixe.

I know that they had dreams, wives and children left behind,
empty bellies, infected feet, all the traveling gear of sufferers since time began,
but I lose sleep and peace only over the beasts they took with them.

We made a point, you and I,
not to mash the wedding cake in each other's faces as so many do.
We were as sweet as swans on a summer lake.

Elephants have eyelashes fit for shy nuns or reclining models.
They know low languages kept for themselves and their familiars,
and we know only dropped chances, blood, and stupidity.

Hannibal impaled and beheaded stragglers, complainers.
His own men's faces gaped from poles as warning to the rest to press on.
Was he any kinder to the elephants? 

We were undone by restless ghosts, of madness, and of remove.
Elephants truly do remember every beating, and every mercy,
every bone left behind, and every calf that lay still.

I loved you, and I love our son fiercely.
If I can't forgive you, it's because of the elephants and the insanity of snow and thin air.
Hannibal is dead. Rome still stands. 
Huge bones litter the Alps, with no heart mighty enough to find them, touch them, and mourn.

for "An Elephantine Challenge" at Real Toads.


Monday, April 18, 2016

Observations on The Construction of The Human Ear

Every ear is different, as unique as fingerprints,
and that is why the world
can speak in a million voices
and to each in her own particular language.

Same-same, the trick is to listen
to what's coming from every direction and to make 
nonsense into music;
foolishness into poetry.

If you can do that, the world will not seem so mean, so ugly,
but will, instead, whisper in your ear like a dream of the Divine.