A bowl of just picked tomatoes.
Read more "Self Portrait with No Wrinkles"
Deep green basil growing in a pot.
Yellow sun on yellow plates.
Showered body in a crisp shirt.
Pants other than sweats.
Window overlooking the sea.
Twelve devilled eggs waiting.
A friend request from Bob Dylan.
Pink vintage rose blooms all year.
No haircut needed.
Loved by everyone.
Peak of health.
I feared it would be like pulling teeth,
all hide-and-seek to avoid betrayal, not easy
like removal of a five-year-old’s wiggled incisor.
Then the miracle that my cupped hands
in hers hold water, no leaks,
no protruding river veins or age stains,
they look prayerful rather than begging.
Read more "Interpolating from the Inspection of My Shadow "
My pointed toe could be bold, an arch
to perfect the gymnast’s leap in open air.
Being young, 21, is everything
Read more "Being Young, 21"
For wisdom does not come with age
Only tired bones and fade
And maturity means accustomed to
The crumbling of a once great temple, you
Invisible now, featureless, faceless
That’s the rub of the wrinkly skinned
Who live in seaside towns, with mothballs twinned
And all this whilst the beautiful people
Run like gazelles, screw like rabbits, have such delicious fun
God, it’s just not fair, though once I was there
In the class of being young, 21
Dear Millennials, You are beautiful. Do not listen to people who say you are vain. They are over fifty, and they are jealous of your pores. They do not realize how good they would look if photographed with the Camera+ app. Buy a selfie stick. You create the life you live. Photograph it from the […]
Read more "Open Letter to the Selfie Generation"
It was the end of a very long day when I listened to my voice mail. “It’s important, call me back.” One of the more talkative people I know, my friend wasn’t usually cryptic. I called back immediately. She didn’t say hello, only, “So there is a lump….” My heart sank, because that’s a phrase […]
Read more "But I’m So Healthy, How Could I Be Sick?"
I know the curve of my upper lip. It points with just a little bit of lipstick. I know my foot – how its arch is just a little too high for normal heels. I know my hair, it’s thick. My waist, it can get thick too. I know my voice and my knees. […]
Read more "I Used To Know Me"
I just spent the weekend with my eight girlfriends. There was a time in my life where that sentence would be followed by eight more of analysis. (If analysis can be used as a nice word for judgment, which I’m not sure it can). She was a pain in my ass, she is too skinny, […]
Read more "What I Think About My Girlfriends"