Handshake without Hands - Feb. 28, 2023
was it your mouth curl and glistening eye or that dust free dimple with the nose crimp or the way your voice tickled the rims of my ears?...
was it your mouth curl and glistening eye or that dust free dimple with the nose crimp or the way your voice tickled the rims of my ears?...
do you canine-handicapped really understand dog-kids? how pretty or handsome they look after a bath and clip and a blue-ribbon poop on...
aren’t we driven by our strongest imperative - need? and don’t our wants feel more like the occasional vacation? and isn’t silence the...
the dieter has returned and outlawed sweet treats the new rule is savory measured and clocked the cookie sheet must be puzzled no more...
for years my husband would pull away from me heal and toe allergic to the ground stuck in East River speed with the tide of humanity...
everything must drink and eat to live trees need light we need love who says those needs are not the same?
are there enough letters to pack into the memory of a moment and bring it to life? are they rich enough to convey one warm-blooded...
I see what lingers when lovers part two suns that became one split and spin away leaving behind a cleaved moon a weak reminder of what...
I wonder at this time of year what they like more the poems or the oranges? hoping neither is too tart or dry nor lost their ability to...
damn doves are building a nest right above the bomb target of two chairs in the garden our sweet spot in the summer for a shady view and...
at 10 years old I kept one it reads like an itinerary an oversized activities pamphlet a checklist of coming and goings - homework around...
for all winter’s slaps to faces and bites to skin tree bending bird bullying and beastly cold for one heavy foot firm on the neck of...
feeling a little off today or a bit lost or maybe both and stuck in a slow gear so I turn to “the ritual” spin the dial click and flick...
C’mon Oliver! do you have to stop to sniff at every tree and bush? as I tug him away he shoots me “the look” that says Why do you read...
love and chocolate seem so right for each other both are sweet as sugar though at times either one can seem a little less sweet and a lot...
any love close to death is sketched in black bold strokes of raw unfinished details and framed in a soft white space of silence something...
how many times have I sat in this exact spot, my mind soaked in one more shade of early morning gray lost between where it left off...
everything must drink and eat to live trees need light we need love who says those needs are not the same?
sickly old me bundled under a winter sun sipping tea for a sore throat my nose drips exactly like tears would as if sickness is a sadness...
I find it odd we never speak to the sun but have always chatted with the moon wished on stars flirted with rainbows asked clouds for...