Time tends to create an opaque membrane,with more limited optical clarity, behind the lenses of eyes that automatically adjust for distant targets,when someone, who is very fond of blue,comes near.It draws the taupe veneer of historyover the windows of the heart,goading light from the front of the house—What if I could shine from inside out?—to… Continue reading Someday This Will All Be Gone
LISTEN HERE. I have lived alone for one week of the past two hundred and thirty-nine weeks, starting April 15, 2020, which was to be the first day back to "normal" in Oregon — a long, but not too long, awaited release from holding all of the bad feelings that the COVID-19 lockdown brought up… Continue reading How’s it going?
When the pencil skirt fits, but doesn’t sit at the hips, as does the cyclist, who would rather be caught dead than with a bulge, even if it’s just an extra bunch of fabric; and so she walks, in measured steps, passing where the sidewalk ends, and then, drops off into dirt, until the final… Continue reading Signs
Thinking about how sex is different, much more different, now than it was then; not materially -- the strings still bray, their ancient tongues still flick the same -- but structurally. Thinking about how to imagine being fucked from behind, without gagging on a principle: all sex is violence except the kind that is saved… Continue reading One-Track Mind
Divine being that I am yes, so fancy that I can't see further than the point end of my needle- nose to sky coyote sounds dignified yes, so easy a disguise for the wild dog that I am.