I’m in the passenger seat and he’s got his hand on my leg. The ride is bumpy and harsh and I’m wishing he’d just hold the wheel and forget all about me.
Angels and Rainbows and the Quiet Man
When I was a kid in the 70s I wanted to be a Spanish dancer, blow up the TV, eat peaches and all that. Later I was struck romantic by oodles of light and incredible dreams, cried for James Lewis, cracked my heart over Donald and Lydia and fell in love with a free ramblin’Continue reading “Angels and Rainbows and the Quiet Man”
The Bones of Things-Prologue
PROLOGUE Guangzhou, China Three Years Ago Li Jing stands holding a sheet of soggy cardboard over her head and looking down into the deep muddy ditch that separates the factory owned dormitory where she lives from the narrow road. Overnight terrible rains have flooded the streets and water has overflowed the gutters and entered theContinue reading “The Bones of Things-Prologue”
Autumn: A Short Story
There’s something wrong with my hands. Lately, I’ve taken to squeezing them into fists at the most peculiar times. When I’m checking out at the grocery store. Face timing my daughter who is away at college. Making love to my husband. My thumbs ache and I’ve noticed the knuckles on my right swell to theContinue reading “Autumn: A Short Story”
Protected: EDEN – Novel Excerpt
There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.
Janie Lucille Paradise-A Novel (Excerpt) Chapter One
I was twenty-eight years old when I first met Janie. I was a writer living in San Francisco scratching out a living writing ad copy and freelancing for various independent pseudo political publications which were, by and large, not very good. Like most writers, I also had a day job to pay the real billsContinue reading “Janie Lucille Paradise-A Novel (Excerpt) Chapter One”
Birthday Girl
She stands naked before the full length mirror in the bathroom and sticks out her tongue at herself. Her body looks no different today. She looks like a bald, wet, cat, she thinks, and she runs her palms over her small breasts and down her hips, disappointed they have not changed overnight. She is, afterContinue reading “Birthday Girl”
For D. on the Occasion of her Graduation
For D. on the Occasion of her Graduation 06/17/2017 The day was ours The sun it shone We were young I borrowed you Your baby arms Your silk white hair Your pale eyes I borrowed you Your skin like cake Your heart of pink Your tiny jeans I borrowed you Your chubby feet I sawContinue reading “For D. on the Occasion of her Graduation”
Memoir of a New Orleans Stripper
I bloodied my hands while I scrubbed Jackson Square. Was stripped of my skin in Metairie somewhere. Turned in my liver to a guy with a glass Traded my cha-cha for one with no class. Was walking St. Charles, taking the air When the streetcar swung by and stripped off my hair. My guts went to church and somehow gotContinue reading “Memoir of a New Orleans Stripper”
For Nick at Ten
Skinny boy Tall boy Little boy My boy Whose boy Go boy Gone boy Goodbye boy
Graduation Day
Graduation Day 1. When Deirdre is ten she has a goldfish that dies. Actually she has about 12 goldfish and they all die except this one she calls Goldie. This one fish lives a long time and gets fat. He gets so fat he is too big for his tank. One day while she isContinue reading “Graduation Day”
Hat
You were wearing this hat that made you look like a kid. Your car keys hung round your neck on a child’s lanyard. It was dark and you stood with one black boot pointed at the door, telling me that you were going and don’t worry and you’d be back, later. It’s raining I said. NoContinue reading “Hat”
Vanilla Ice Cream
Yesterday it occurred to me that if we don’t want our kids to do a certain thing then maybe we just shouldn’t do it. Like for example, if I don’t’ want my kid to eat vanilla ice cream then I just won’t eat the flipping vanila ice cream. I won’t sneak around eating it or goContinue reading “Vanilla Ice Cream”
The Poetry of Harriet the Spy
I write often about grief and loss but today looking through quotes from one of my favorite books, Louise Fitzhugh’s 1964 classic, Harriet the Spy, I noticed some of the most beautiful poetry throughout. Here is something I wanted to share: “WHEN SOMEBODY GOES AWAY THERE’S THINGS YOU WANT TO TELL THEM. WHEN SOMEBODY DIES MAYBEContinue reading “The Poetry of Harriet the Spy”
Reseda
Between the broccoli and the curry comes the flash and disappearance. Then the wondering, what’s next? The screams, like a tsunami’s wail just out of sight. The pain, better, when it comes, has bright hard dimensions like a gutted swimming pool. All I have to do is climb this side to that. It’s not like the waiting, which isContinue reading “Reseda”
Fried Eggs
She had this operation but they never told me what she’d look like after. So I tried not to look but I think she knew. Later when I saw her I had to pretend. I had to sort out where to lay my eyes when she was in the room, but hers were flat onContinue reading “Fried Eggs”
Margaret Atwood: Thriller Suite New Poems
Margaret Atwood: Thriller Suite New Poems From woman capable of a so many things…Check out Update on Werewolves. Wonderful.
green glasses on a tuesday
your vinyl skin your plastic eyes you doll you the pads of my fingers fold softly beneath the puff of your high quality vinyl cheek my beer soaked rough lined lips fold around the curve of your bow mouth and your forgiveness keeps me while your Barbie love surrounds me and i am yours
Coming of Age in the City of Angels
Once I cried but now I don’t. Once I hurt But now I won’t. Time I gave But now I take. Once I loved but now I hate. I told them no They call me bad. I told them yes They call me mad. Built a wall of stars So full of shame To keepContinue reading “Coming of Age in the City of Angels”
Adrian McKinty’s THE SUN IS GOD
Adrian McKinty’s THE SUN IS GOD I am a tremendous fan of Irish literature. To be fair, I am probably unusually obsessed with Irish murder mysteries. But I have to insist that it is not the Irishness of the stories as much as it is the quality of the writing. I have found a number ofContinue reading “Adrian McKinty’s THE SUN IS GOD”