Veneer

She walks in with slight bite of lip, betrayal of boldness carefully cultivated, cover blown on sight.         Maybe it’s just the mead talking to me tonight, but my recent foray into the nonet sparked a renewed interest in poetry and form in my life.  Thus, a trip into the shadorma.  It … More Veneer

Father of Mine

Plath said hers had a Meinkampf look, A man in black With love of the rack and the screw, But Daddy, Daddy, I don’t know what to make of you.   I read her words at twenty, A dagger trailing red to the core And then put you away – Tried to scar the slice … More Father of Mine

Bubbles and Budgets

I grew up eating government cheese and wearing Dollar General jelly shoes that gave me bleeding blisters.  When I was very young we raised pigs to slaughter and stored homegrown root vegetables next to the coal in the basement to make it through the winter.  We were sustainable chic before it was hipster.  When you’re … More Bubbles and Budgets

Russian Rubdown

If I could Match.Com me a perfect doesn’t-have-to-talk companion his name would be Sven and he would be a 6’4” Swedish masseuse.  Instead I’m following a tiny Russian woman to a suspect back room to get mostly naked and shell out the equivalent of a Tiny House Nation mortgage for a professional rubdown.  I hope.  … More Russian Rubdown

Fear Inherent

There is an inherent fear in being a woman, a dark shape lurking just in the periphery.  We trek through parking garages alone with our keys clutched between knuckles to use as potential weapons.  We have to calculate if the shortcut through the alley is worth the risk.  We straighten our shoulders and hold our … More Fear Inherent

My Uterus is Elderly (But She Still Likes to Party)

An acquaintance of mine a mere 4 years older just found out she’s pregnant.  Her GYN instructed her to take it easy because her uterus is considered “elderly”.  As in old.  I immediately started knitting mine a pearly white shawl and googling prices for tiny little Hoverounds.  I always said I wouldn’t even begin to … More My Uterus is Elderly (But She Still Likes to Party)

Cherry ChapStick

The first boy I ever loved was a Catholic School Bad Boy with a mischievous grin.  It was the kind of love that tasted like cherry ChapStick and smelled like clean boy sweat.  Not gym bag “my socks have been germinating in here for six months” teen boy but pure and undiluted burgeoning maleness.  I … More Cherry ChapStick