Slither: to,
and hither: You,
yellow bellies,
rolled upwards,
hollowed sockets,
empty pockets,
scaly-skinned cowards,
slither uphill,
wiggle forwards,
towards the shade,
empty promises made,
hollowed, rusted words…
the clock won’t tick –
it’s arms backwards,
venomous snakes,
first and second –
fatal to the third,
shed your skin,
nice and new again,
I thought for sure,
you’d already heard,
I’m undeterred,
insane and absurd,
driven by,
a whispered word…


He is angry with me,
he buzzes past my face,
a flutter for a pace,
he suspends himself, it seems,
right in front of me,
we make eye contact –
two little black,
sweet and innocent b.b.’s,
it’s like he’s yelling at me:
“Why don’t you leave?”
through angry buzzing,
of his lightning-fast wings,
he is little, indeed,
for a bird of his breed,
but I am taken by,
the look in his little, black eyes,
and such a show of bravery.
he is not afraid of me,
not today, anyway…
he just wants to drink,
and his fearlessness,
the buzzing messages –
that he communicates to me,
leave me no other choice,
but to respect,
the hum of his voice.



I’m crying a lot again lately…the Holidays, I assume…

the point of my post is not to gain pity from anyone reading this, it’s simply an observation that I’ve made over the past week about my own tears and the way that they seem to work.

I blew my nose this morning after a disgusting sneezing/coughing fit (yes, I have the creep and bronchitis still…), and was somehow given the cursedly magical flashback of a time during Boo’s earliest years alive – she was probably around 3 or so; she inherited her mother’s schedule-bending allergies, and I flashed upon the time she was learning how to blow her nose. I was overcome by the memory of holding a wad of tissues to her little button nose and directing her to blow from her “booger holes” as hard as she could – and the experience that followed my instruction – the one in which I learned how well my only child can mimic me; she blew with all her might into the tissues and never had a runny nose again, to my recollection. People always used to trip out about the way my toddler regularly retrieved a tissue and blew her little faucet nose, without being told to do so.

She was such a miniature adult, always….

I cried for about an hour after I finished blowing my nose.


Next, were the stupid Candy Corn Rocks in the box of Halloween decorations that I begrudgingly pulled out at my roommate’s out-of-character request (wtf???)

The year before she left my life, Boo and I painted some river rocks that we had started collecting right after I came home from the hospital; the collection had grown over the handful of years, and we spent a lot of time and attention on finding rocks that were specifically reminiscent of Candy Corns, because when we started out with it, she was too young to differentiate shapes very well and it was one she could easily identify. It had been her random idea to paint them in time for what would become our very last Halloween at home together. When I see them, I feel both endearment and bitterness; one of my hands wants to throw each rock as far away from me as I can manage; the other hand wants to somehow wrap each one up and protect it from anything and everything because it’s Boo.

For YOU.

abandon your instincts


Why would I want to begrudge or deny – a pair of mended wings?

The only thing I might do, would be to ask you to –

Use them to get you as far as you can from me.

I am not mad about the successes you’ve had – or the future you look ahead for.

The problem you see, is that your healing doesn’t heal me –

On the contrary, I’m somehow emptier than I was before.


But these things don’t necessarily mean – that my intentions for you have changed;

I still wish you no less, than the bluest skies and lasting breath –

You’ve confided your struggles and most secret fears and spiritual pain.

Just because the stars don’t glow just for “US” – Life will still go on.

Separate paths will slowly pass – and forgotten belly laughs –

I want you to keep flying further and further, now that you’ve really gone.