Two Nonets for Napowrimo day 9 At nine I road a hand-me-down bike Blue Wheels, fat, silver pedals, tight I’d stand for the uphill climb Then fly down Jeffery Hill Miss the gravel patch A sure wipe out Catch myself Laughing bright The number of completion is nine Peace with the lessons learned so far … Continue reading Nine
Day 29 Window Watching
Carl is pacing the deck again His cigarette ash is long. His high-ball glass is empty. Phyllis, caftan flowing wild red hair a-flourish, hollers from the dark recess of the house. He tosses his smoke over the rail turns to go in. Their youngest is my basketball-boy crush. I see his light go on upstairs … Continue reading Day 29 Window Watching
Day 27 Kuebiko Blues
From the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows Kuebiko n. a state of exhaustion inspired by an act of senseless violence, which forces you to revise your image of what can happen in this world—mending the fences of your expectations, weeding out invasive truths, cultivating the perennial good that’s buried under the surface—before propping yourself up in … Continue reading Day 27 Kuebiko Blues
Day 23 In Conversation
We large female children who find ourselves rocking one another in rhythms of cradle and breast, who stand in line to honor our dead, our grandmothers our lost boys, we rock on our heels, kiss the brows of our fevered sisters in search of ourselves, our missing colors, our unspoken promises, our unnamed regrets, we … Continue reading Day 23 In Conversation
day 6 -Breath Before Grace
I learned sighs in the kitchens of my childhood along with towel flicks, food fights, and stern instruction to dry a glass again to remove evil water spots or anything else the night’s dish washer had missed. Do it again was my mother’s hovering mantra. Dad just got overwhelmed. As head chef most holidays, he … Continue reading day 6 -Breath Before Grace
April 28 The Corner Room Upstairs
A wall slants overhead Cabbage rose, water stained my ears ache hot against a cool cotton pillowcase in this slim single bed its knotted white coverlet walnut lamp–stand where Mama's grandmother Martha kept her teeth in a cup that now holds a glass of water a yellow thermometer. A jar of Vicks Vapo-Rub Mentholates the … Continue reading April 28 The Corner Room Upstairs
Early Morning Poems 