I must have been 12 or 13 Mom was acting in a play I helped her learn her lines got to hang out with the cast and I felt like the coolest kid ever sitting on a bar stool. Of course he was drunk, this hilarious man I’d seen on stage celebrating a performance well done, I guess. My memory of the room is fuzzy though I’ve been there often since I only recall, “do you have pink, underdeveloped nipples?”
And I don’t know what happened next nothing dramatic, nothing physical he...
I made a grilled cheese sandwich today - first time in forever - Just had a hankering for that warm gooey cheesy buttery-ness. I used the bread heels, because I’m an adult and they needed to be eaten. But in a moment of whim and nostalgia I cut it into triangles and then for good measure poured a glass of cold milk to drink.
And there she was – backed by sunshine through the curtain soft rock hits crooning from the wall radio… Never sitting, incessantly wiping harvest gold countertops with that smelly cloth – ...
Walking the beach I picked up stones Rounded by waves and bleached by sun, they had names so familiar – Bitterness, Longing, Regret And I wondered, How many tides had it taken to smooth their uncomfortable edges?
Over two thousand tides have passed since he loved me
Twice daily salt runs down the face of the beach, washing and slowly defeating those stones Yielding new sands, and new beaches until all that’s left are...
Donning war paint for a friend sounds heroic and you truly want to be that hero Until you're actually asked to be at inconvenient times repeatedly embarrassingly And you can't fix it. You just have to keep hearing about it again and again until you can't bear to listen And you take the lack of progress personally because war paint only feels heroic when you're winning And this fight isn't the one you signed up for - ...
In some fantastical realm or parallel universe there live the people we were Before
If we're not careful we spend our lives trying to get back before the abandonment before the shame before the illness before the death before the heartbreak
But we live in the After after the healing after the victory after meeting that someone after the commitment after the awakening And if we're honest with ourselves we know we can't get back to Before without losing the After
That kid at the supermarket checkout -- he's been buddies with my boys since first grade once a little cutie pie now a young man navigating senior year in a pandemic and I'm just so sad for all of them Do kids hold hands in hallways any more? Do they make out in the band room closet? -- anyway, I digress -- That damn kid, I'm actually jealous of his gorgeous blue long-lashed camel eyes because he looks good in a mask.
No one can accuse me of being a hands-off gardener. Checking and fretting every day as blossoms drop off uselessly... finally in desperation dipping my digits deep into fleshy flower tubes finger-fucking the blooms because the poor pollinators aren't doing their damn jobs and I want these plants fertilized and fruiting so I can savour my stupid squash!