Sunday, August 13, 2017

I Am More Than Someone Else's Ugly

I deserve.

Morning light that makes waking up early feel like a magical secret, moonlight on the water that bounces up onto my cheeks and makes me feel beautiful, birds with glorious, colourful feathers who land nearby and break the space back into 4 dimensions, rocky road from the greatest place and in the biggest mother-fucking cup, a genuine man who loves me with an open heart, and oh...sooooo much more.

I deserve to be read slowly.


Saturday, August 12, 2017

No Erasure / Flood The Marks

what i delete

only tells you

what i would

like to spend

less time with

you can only

guess at


predicting can

mimic my


but what i

act on is the

least interesting

of all

that occurs

in me

Vulnerability and Blood

I cannot begin to tell you how I know, but I know; we are all inconsequential when not woven deep into the fabric of our humanity.

Vulnerability and blood. These are the only things that distinguish we humans...anymore.




Wednesday, August 9, 2017

Five Lands

feel my flesh come back while the ties
to my memories come undone under each one of your fingertips


Thursday, August 3, 2017

The Opulence of Escape

when it is time to 
ignore all but the 
beauty of dreams

i need only a moment



Monday, July 31, 2017


Except for the 
"how bad I need you" issue,
I am totally down with this song.


Sunday, July 30, 2017

Requirements of Real Ascent


Labels and images 

maps and details

photos and directions 

all of it nothing but

a bunch of meaningless data

shallow and seductive

nothing but distractions

that keep me from becoming


Friday, July 28, 2017

Power Leaves Me Cold

don't want to reward you / you don't deserve it / maybe ever / maybe just yet / and what the hell / were you thinking? /

were you thinking? / i was sure / til you twisted / our touch / bright lights big city / i want privacy / this is scaring me / what happened to respect? / 

what happened to respect? /

i don't know how you feel / i did / then i / needed something from you / something / you decided not to give / now i must choose  / do i accept less / comfort myself / saying it will change / when you love me / but i know better / i know better /

did you really mean / to refuse / something so simple / did you understand the import / your power grab / you got your power / you're using it / so much for the same team / i thought / i felt / you would be more / careful with me / 

turning back off / pink blanched back to / white / my legs reflexively closed / my lips already turned / to glass / did you mean / to refuse me? /

your ego spoke / i can't trust you / now i know better / i remember something / tears from knowing / nothing at all

did you really mean / to choose power? / i don't know you / maybe you're damaged / maybe you didn't even see / you had a / choice / i'm so sorry / so sorry you couldn't be / generous / 

i will get over / you / (this time) / because i / know better / 


Thursday, July 27, 2017

Tie It Up

Tie my thoughts into sailor's knots.

Dock my sex, my heart, my lips, my wetness

to keep thoughts of your touch from

slowly coaxing me, memory sensation by

memory sensation, out to sea alone.


You have the hands to untie me.

How are you far from shore,

when you are tired and the

water is work?


Am I safe with you?


Sunday, July 23, 2017


close your eyes

i'll close mine




it's all talking

(but we're breathing skin to skin)

they all smiling

(we're vein to vein)

no one's tops are turvy

like rabbits they all

fucking to make time

(we're time)

they miss the sounds...

(we're music)

crickets never quiet

they they they...


(we spread)

too scared to be seen

so they talked eyes open

(we are lights)

too scared to be seen so they

touch eyes closed

(we pulse)

let's open space back up

become the connections

open minds back up

resist our reflections

skin to skin...


On Witholding

Gifts too soon

or too many

are not gifts.

They are burdens.


(Fucking is easy. Loving is hard.)


Wednesday, July 19, 2017

No Control

When the shell

finds the harvester's bag

When it will be

pried open

Insides stolen

Will it be happy

Feel fulfilled

because it has 

been emptied?

Because its gift

will be appreciated?


Monday, July 17, 2017

Saturday, July 15, 2017

Sono Sola

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Sono Sola

when i feel like this
those are the only words
that describe it

sono sola

those are the only words
that even come into my

when i say it this way it feels like
i'm talking to
the dead architects of those
beautiful cities
the dead makers of those
haunting paintings
the dead lovers of those
dramatic women with their
brown eyes
and their fiery

talking to all those dead people
who lived to make beautiful things
because they know how i feel

sono sola...

that i am trapped on
this inland island alone.


Friday, July 7, 2017

On-line is the same as Alone

The conversation is 


once again

even though this is

my first time

meeting you


Sunday, July 2, 2017

Femme Masculine / Donna Mascolina

I am very strong.

I want to wear something sheer.

I am told to "lean back" to be successful in romance.

I am told to "lean in" to be successful in professional life.

I am fragile.

I want to demand answers from the world.

(Lean in, lean back, be lean, get fat...wtfk?!)

I want to say what I mean, be clear, be productive, relax in love, be hopeful, show kindness, feel accepted, understood, and wanted. 

I am living a small life.

I want to find my place and swell to fill it.

I want to expand in every direction.

I do not want (to have to) think about leaning at all.

I am not a modern woman.

I want to be known as a human.


I am not ashamed to be a woman.

I am ashamed of what a woman is supposed to be.


Monday, June 26, 2017

Stupidity is Not Safe

Bananas are yellow.

This sentence leaves no room for debate. It is not a question. All bananas are yellow is what it means. I have believed bananas are yellow my entire life.

It has taken me forty-eight years to understand that my idea of a banana was so one-dimensional that it was nearly wrong.

Yes, bananas are yellow at one point. They are also solid green, green and yellow, yellow and brown, and solid brown. All of those colors don't change its banana-ness. Unripe, ripe, over-ripe...those don't change its banana-ness either, but I am loathe to be a rule-breaker, so I never gave a banana with spots a chance.

Why is this important? Well, first off, because I discovered that I love brown bananas. But more importantly, it has forced me to confront again how uneducated I can be, despite all of my education. And how is it that children's books, advertising symbols, and general visual imagery all back this particular banana ignorance up?!

I have never seen a children's book that explains that green bananas are bananas just like yellow bananas are bananas, and brown bananas and spotty bananas are bananas, too.

Okay, yes, I understand we use nature's hints to keep us safe, i.e. don't teach the baby to eat rotten food. But isn't there something missing when the narrative places so much emphasis on a single stage of a process and excludes all others? How do we correct a disconnect so large? In the case of the banana, many people consider its natural variations as inferior fruit, not as equal versions of the same thing.

We can talk here about the elderly, about the handicapped, about the obese, or we can take it into racism, white supremecy, we can take it to wherever we want and make the same point. People over-simplify out of fear and they always have. Limiting knowledge and information to a select few allowed order, safety, and a sense of control. Now it has reversed; lack of education, limiting of fact-based knowledge, distribution of misleading information, and disconnection from nature's abundance and diversity, makes us unsafe.

It is our ignorance of the existance and importance of each phase of process---our lack of respect for the circularity of life---that has brought us to a place where we no longer know what is truly rotten / dangerous to our survival because we do not know the nature of our technologies. 

There will be a day when a small group will negotiate the distribution of the entirety of our world's resources without words, treaties, or human emotion. My hope is that this day has already come and passed, and that the people who appear to be in charge are are largely irrelevant to the overall outcome. I also hope that I spend the rest of my life discovering and exploring new data, data that illustrates how much of the world has been hidden in plain sight.


Saturday, June 24, 2017

Rick James, Ricky the dog.

I used to be painfully alone.

Then I got a dog.

I was less lonely but more stressed.

You see, my dog was a rescue dog,

and had no idea how to do anything

near, with, or requested by, a human.

Even the simple act of eating off of a plate

or out of a bowl was alarmingly bizarre

to him. He was frightened, hostile, and

confused by his surroundings.

Eventually, he mastered the system---and me---

and found a way to take it further.

He figured out that by using his paws to flip 

his empty food bowl he could own me. It 

became his metal hockey puck and he would 

paw at it recklessly---and loudly!---slamming it

into inanimate objects all through the house.

He was relentless. His attention-grabbing 

performance would not stop until I either 

took the bowl and filled it, or set it up 

somewhere high and out of sight until his

next meal.

He would steal all the blankets, chew through

 leashes, eat holes in asphalt, and routinely

gorge on grass until he was sick. He was like a

two year old sticking his tounge into

electrical outlets, dependent, and a danger

to himself in a way my son never was.

I felt needed,  which was fantastic, and 

occasionally abused, which sucked.

I read books on dog training, dog whispering,

dog obedience, and dog psychology. I don't

really think any of these actually helped 

but they made me feel like I was doing 

something. By the end of our time 

together we were each happy and

felt deeply loved. 

We had learned how to communicate,

to get what we needed. Our relationship

had progressed from vehement distrust

to active shows of gratitude.  

He no longer pulled when were

out walking. Instead, he responded 

to my every move like a mime,

sans creepy make-up and with

significantly less effort. He would snuggle 

up near me in the house, and sit or lay

by my feet if we were out.

Waiters and waitresses

adored him and knew him by name.

Our favorite cafe would pack up a picnic 

of coffee and cheese to-go  and we would 

walk down to the port. We would sit at our 

favorite benches and eat, enjoying each other 

and savoring our time out in the world. Some 

days we would sit a little longer, watching 

airplanes and birds and warming ourselves

 in the sun before going home

There was a hike by a castle up

a steep hill to a lookout point over the sea 

that he loved. Once at the top, he would

commence drowning me in ecstatic dog

kisses, then stand on my lap, face pointed

into the wind, eyes closed...I was his

titanic, and he was standing 

at the bow relaxed, content,

feeling the power of nature,

and freedom,


Dedicated to my dog, Ricky, 
who was my everything. 

In 2016 I was hospitalized in Spain.
He was placed in a shelter, as dogs are
when their owners can no longer
care for them. He was adopted, I was told.

I eventually recovered and returned to
the United States. I had to
leave without him.

The two of us at the top of the 
lookout is the last time we were

my last memory before sinking.

Sunday, June 18, 2017


You have never heard me.

What if mine is the voice

you were meant to 

fall in love with?

To you my recitation of 

the grocery list for Seafood Wednesday

may sound like an otherworldly 


of the prose of clouds.

(My voice is waiting.)

Wednesday, June 14, 2017

Day early, dollar short, one block away.


Getting to the right train
on time 
means figuring out first where 
you're going

I've done oceans of things I'm
barely good at
and taken hours of time to perform
tasks I was expected to complete in minutes

It is impossible that I am terrible
at everything

It is more likely that I have been going in the wrong direction

or going in the right direction but sitting backward

Could a beautiful future be as simple as
turning around?


Monday, May 29, 2017

Discount Refrigerators and Free Popcorn

It's a day of remembrance for those who have given their lives in service for the citizens of this country. Somehow it has become instead a day of mattress and appliance "Blow Out Sales!!!", a day of potato chips, a day to open swimming pools for the season, and to celebrate a day "off."

Would it be better to be grim? Didn't these men and women die specifically so the rest of us could enjoy this great land? I'd argue yes, but buying a mattress on clearance doesn't scream"Respect."

I have to stop writing now; I'm almost late for my less-than-living-wage retail job, where I have been asked to spend my Memorial Day selling discounted appliances and handing out free popcorn to shoppers.



Monday, May 22, 2017

Towards a New Set

what is ahead has appeared


like an endless glassy lake

for a time so long

it is all I can recall

and all that I expect to see 

each new day I wake and greet my still life

with the unromantic acceptance 

and sturdy endurance of a well-fed field hand

but today there was a ripple

something moving out there!

it was faint and distant 

yet my chest parted for it

I had to manually close myself back up

"A little premature, but good practice"

that tiny event...its discrete animation...

it thrilled me!

an animated disruption

to this set design of apathy

a little fold of introduction

to rolling versions of my future

I want very much

to meet


Thursday, April 13, 2017

Other People Love

Painting by Eric Fischl.

Have you ever
been unable to know
how you feel about something
simply because someone else
loves it so much?

...loves it so much
all you can see
when you look at it
is them?


Today I tried to see this painting

stared and stared

took this photo so I could try again later

because no matter where I stood

all I could see was you.


Saturday, April 8, 2017


greys and browns

a nude coiled into a ball
her backbone a nautilus

you shave and become the face
of Spring


grass grows

even the nude unfolds
for you


Sunday, March 26, 2017

Ab Shots, Baseball Hats, Tattoos

men looking for love
or pretending they're looking for love
post photos of themselves standing next to motorcycles, sitting on top of motorcycles, water skiing, snow skiing, wearing baseball hats with sunglasses mounted over the brim, sticking their tongues out with the "horns" hands you see from "rockers"

they pose with their shirts off, show off their tattoos, stand in their bathrooms and take selfies, sit in their cars with their headsets on and take selfies, post pics from every single vacation they've ever taken to prove they're living the dream

they post images of themselves with past loves, post pics of their feet up with bottles of beer, post pics of trucks and sunsets,
trucks AT sunset

and everyone's favorite places are 1)the beach 2) the lake and 3) cuddling at home

ab shots are some of the most embarrassing to look at, next are the risky business sunglasses and a suit, then The Terminator head shots

men looking for love are no less desperate than women looking for love

then there are people like me, we look too serious and remind people of the kids in high school who didn't have fun at prom

most of us didn't even go

nothing about dating makes sense to us, it is all a distortion of nature, like bears wearing bathing suits or birds playing banjos

maybe our ineptitude is best understood in context, a form of natural selection, our genes are meant to fade away

Sunday, March 19, 2017


Every single day I walked to the sea. The paths I took, littered with tiny shops, trash bins, and punctuated by large wooden church doors and paintings of virgin marys, became to me like the sheets of my bed, hugging me, surrounding me, enveloping me, and comforting me from three sides.

The fourth side, always my escape, was higher, but no further from me there, in Spain, than today, here in America. Infinity has no finite depth, so my thoughts travel endlessly in circles, each breath a dream, each dream a loop...Italian, Spanish, Hebrew, French, English...


Friday, March 17, 2017

Played Deeply

music / deep / there / then gone /as i change my thoughts / the world intervenes / disruptions

each note  / each phrase / dislodged / plays / attach and abandon / attach and abandon 

does it multiply / does it stay strong in its form even as its waves are set free / was it ever complete?


over and over / separated  phrases / come back / to kiss me / 

more and more familiar / becoming more and more 
discrete / evolving into fullness / i am missed as much as i miss / 


Monday, March 13, 2017

The Sensible Affordable Version

there might not be anything else
or anyone else
the tinny sound 
of a cheap car radio
tires out of alignment announcing rotations
and my mind seeing straight ahead
like it's a 

is this really my new life?

this might be all there is

wearing flannel to bed
surrendering the last of my
femininity and sensuality
to keep me numb


this might be all there is

life designed around sensible shoes
and affordable supermarket food


Wednesday, March 8, 2017

Traveling Companion

 / burn the letter after reading / (there are no letters, only looks) / (we talk in memories) / show me stories / colors fill me / perforations / the city we share is anywhere / I can only get here with you


save me a seat / you never sit down / except when you have to / did you know I could hear you / that night you sat in my room / I remember


I made it / you left me for so long / here we are again / now I listen to the gentle sounds / your eyes ask me / they say "tell me what we do again?" / my eyes say "okay" / (temptation)


I tell you  / we start over / I can only get here with you


Thursday, March 2, 2017

Planned Obsolescence


it's electrifying

can't handle

the charge

push closer

till the buzz

pull out


the sting

is life

unplug to

die off

the wired box

of stolen consciousness

sends your messages

without you

your brain

is left behind

and your heart

is obsolete


Wednesday, March 1, 2017

Fear Internalized

It's a damp cloth set atop
once hot coals 
now nearly out

the tiniest flicker struggling
to stay lit

that is how it feels to be 
bound by intellectual fear

afraid to think too hard
afraid to follow a lead
afraid because trying
to understand 
might lead to understanding
and to learn anything other
than what is being taught
is dangerous

Thinking and curiosity don't
always yield important results
but they always make the 
field of view deeper for me

To struggle with an idea 
is to take it on as a companion
to talk to it and
to listen to it

Allowing expanisve
relationships with ideas 
is one way to learn 
how to have
with people, plants, animals,
and the world in general

If being intellectually fearless
is the attitude of an explorer

Intellectual fear is the 
shadow cast by a recluse


Wednesday, February 15, 2017

Never Know

if i never
get back
to where i belong

does that mean
i never
belonged there?

Friday, January 13, 2017

Inflated Statistics

It's a bot.

My visitors are all bots.

Countries of origin listed

are fabrications,

automated slights of hand,

wishful thinking in data form.

These stats reflect

imaginary travels of readers

who do not exist.

My blog is visited daily

by numerical sets of tasks



to bounce from place to place

leaving traces of connections with geographies

purposefully misleading.

Despite this,

I am always ready to believe

a sentient being

has visited.


Friday, January 6, 2017


waiting / trying / wanting 

 / settling / sane / quiet / 

waking / watching my back

 / living a wrinkled life.

Wednesday, September 7, 2016

Change In Temperature

Snow will fill my pack.

Sun will melt what I have held.



Tuesday, August 23, 2016

A Different Kind Of Road Trip

Context: The Newslinq post says this man´s father has Alzheimer´s Disease and through music, he gets him back for a few minutes.

Monday, August 8, 2016

Spend Myself On Today

There are others besides myself
who hear blood like wind
move bones like furniture
around in houses made of memory
of oceans
with lovers long gone
in nights dark with paper raindrops
love letters torn into pieces
by remembering

These people know that day and night
are the same if you make no effort
to live in the world that your body
sits in

Even when I sit with you
though you are gone
--have never been here--
I collect my breathes inside
and spend them all to turn
the lights on when my eyes open

I spend myself on today
even with you inside me.


Tuesday, July 19, 2016

The Hopeful Story

sit down here beside me and tell me a story

don´t give it a sad ending this time around

we've heard too many of those

and i can tell you most by heart

this time spin me a tale that includes

struggle and relief

purpose and joy

toil and reward

because not all orchards

starve their fruits and have trees going thirsty

---many do, but not all---

and to learn from books is one thing

but i want to hear you say it:


every story doesn´'t 
have to be a tragedy 

there can be a hopeful story 

tell me that one
tell me that one

tell that one to me.


Wednesday, July 6, 2016

Reminded To Stay In Progress

so many peoples' minds run to ends that are prescribed

how invigorating to see one that hasn´t been captured

reminded to stay in progress

working together with the unknown


Tuesday, July 5, 2016

Lonely Octopus

removed from various paths of circulation

have you ever been

yourself taken out of the mix?

prohibited from re-entering

your most familiar?

have you ever 

been excluded

and become foreign

out of necessity rather than by choice?

knowing it is done by actions

long before it is declared in words,

like a break-up whose murmurs stir lazily the unaquainted

--circles out too far to feel any real loss--?

lists of facts confirm the separation

intentions guessed at infrequently

and only in whispers 

mostly to pass the time

my parting took place long ago

my tentacles pulled away

long before this notice

forced off quietly

in some spots pried away

certain objects and people knowingly released 

impulses steering me towards the inevitable

I did not want to go

I did not want to leave you

this fourth of July I feel I am an octopus who floated away

still loving what I was most attached to

i close my eyes and swim

i swim

have you ever been

pried away?


Monday, July 4, 2016

corrected: VIKTOR POPKOV;YESTERDAY at the Russian Museo

Collection Of The Russian Museum
Saint-Petersburg / Malaga

*when initially posted, the second image below was misattributed. It has now been corrected; the artist´s name appears properly.

Vladimir Gavrilov
Marzo Alegre
additional image reference

Viktor Popkov
 September in the Mezen River
 additional image reference

Yesterday at the museum I was filled with the goodness of paint.
Lines and strokes and fat globs of paint.

There were colours that were magnificent. The orange of Gavrilov's
Marzo Alegre does not show true in the photo, instead it looks yellow.  In life it was a vibrant, pulsating,
warmly-glowing lit-up orange, splendidly lighted
by staff who instinctively knew its brilliance and it stole the whole show.

Popkov´s river scene was no less dramatic in its colours although it did not
take my breath from me when I turned its corner like the Gavrilov. Despite
being compared and coming up short, it has formidible formal qualities and
is a strong, strong painting with a point of view I appreciate.

Thursday, June 30, 2016

No More Afternoon Hours

climate here is like a weathered coal miner
and I an old interloper at the mouth of the hole;
I have been warned.

I will see you again in late


falling away from the heat and into this womb of marble
biblioteca - cream coloured library
call yourself anything! I am already devoted

your refrigeration and its coolness are a summer lover's arms
down here in the south where a sleep after midday dinner is
a necessary hiding
from the suffocation of
a heat-sealed-envelope:


here, siesta means preservation and education
not laziness
steamy street asphalt collects in sticky wads
carried around on heels like discarded gum

siesta; how judgmental the world beyond
when in practice nothing else presents as reasonable whatsoever?

siesta in julio
siesta in agosto

words that situate me like arrows
pin me to a board directly in-line with the Spanish sun

tomorrow´s hours will not be the same as today´s
and i will miss
my chilly book-mausoleum desserts

nothing promised in place of what is being taken away
simply the words "summer hours" and the numbers
9:00 - 14:00 in a language I now
know well enough to
know to sweat upon first reading

little room with little window and curtains
my hands and arms will learn better
how to close you off to late day hot wind
and how to remove
myself from glaring-whole-walls of spotlight
searing intensity being their primary,
unrelenting feature

location plus season


Tuesday, June 28, 2016

Stop Fussin'

convo with myself: what was all the commotion about? losing hold and dropping into the void only confirmed (to me) there is no dropping out...there are also no smoke or mirrors. there are only a bunch of other stories, other people, other eyes with fears of the same non-existent void. that ought to teach me for thinkin´.