two crows fly over
tree that is still holding on
to her summer skirt
May the fruits of summer keep you fed this winter, dear reader.
under cloudy sky fennel flowers and barbed wire laughing our way home
your three to my one the amber and the red twenty five cents and a vibrating tilt-a-whirl you spoke of carnivals and dark, dusty paths that lead to where we need to be (to peeking behind the boards where darts come towards our hearts) popcorn with truffle oil meaningless meetings and Hoffa screwing and killing…
light bursting through morning clouds an old crow flies past children’s sighs break through stillness
“One can choose to go back toward safety or forward toward growth. Growth must be chosen again and again; fear must be overcome again and again.” — Abraham Maslow Today, in the United States of America, we call this the end of a year. In my framework of existence, this is quite arbitrary so I…
what do you mean by that, anyway? (i mean exactly what i said. there is nothing hidden here) why do you have to question everything? (because things need questioned) can’t you ever just be satisfied? (sure, but not with everything and not right now) maybe you’re in this situation because of the choices you’ve made….
I have been turned to ashes. It is time. Today marks my eleventh year of motherhood. I gave birth to my daughter, Alexandra, eleven years ago. My life has been deeply transformed during that time. The tower has fallen. It’s time for rebirth and renewal. Happy birthday, Alexandra. Happy birthing day to me (and to…