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The danger of wishing and other forms of false hope
If there is something that I can’t abide it is false hope. Wishing, wanting things to change, seeing the buoy thrown out to your drowning self, and finding that all the air has gone out of it. Give me no hope at all, rather than hopes dashed. I am not one to let myself be […]
MorePermanent Milk Stains
Motherhood leaves permanent milk stains on you. While the kids play boy as girl games and people enquire as to my pronouns, I want to show them my permanent milk stains and flash my own personal womanhood in response to their ridiculousness. What else can I be? Can I sew on a dick to my […]
MoreRoad to the Past
Sometimes to get to the past you have to travel, eyes shutting, can’t help it, earing ringing from tiredness and caffeine, and the road, the endless road at night, the roadlamps and the blinking lights, and the halogen lamps and the chugachugachuga of a worn out suspension down the potholed 5. The gas station drinks […]
MoreEast Side Cinderella
A East Side Cinderella sits waiting For a cab that will never come Holding a borrowed black umbrella A suitcase And a stolen gun A picture of a boy reading “to all tomorrow’s parties” Between finger and thumb A crackerjack ring, a toy car of tin And a promise of things That won’t ever be […]
MoreDown and Out in San Francisco
Tents on Geary, Tents on O’Farrell. Tents on Union. Tents on Civic. No tents on California. No tents in the Marina. A few tents on the Embarcadero More on Willow. No tents on Russian Hill Where it is an eternal May Tents in the ‘Loin: All work, no pay. Tents in Mission, But none in […]
MoreGas Station Blues.
Cass Lake Minnesota winds along in a gentle bustling flow of summer life. Wood and bait is sold, pontoons and boats transported, campfires made and deer spring alongside the roads and sometimes into them. I went to use the laundry service at a casino truck stop, the woman serving behind the counter looking shocked and […]
MoreWanderer in the shadow of Basho
Who anointed Basho with curses of wandering, Who bade him lay down in fields all flowering. Who commanded him sleep while sakura blossomed, Who told him to wait winter out while spring it floundered? Who gave voice to the plover, the keening of the loon? Who invited him to stare into darkness only to find […]
MoreGrandpa and the Bell. Haiku
Market shrine: man claps. “Protect these children!” he cries: Wooden prayers. Wind blows.
MoreConfessions of an unwilling fashionista
I have never had much money, there was a period in my youth where I spent a little on clothes, but mostly clothes were free, or very cheap, I rarely had more than three changes of clothes – and still don’t, all my money went on guitars, drugs and travel. What I wore really didn’t […]
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