I sing inside a prison of words. I crave them. Words ignite a passion beyond the will. Us. Stop and … More
She talks to birds and trusts her future to rat couture. Her life is not yet full of Boy Scouts and … More
The super moon a solid soupcon of hate dishes up only sorrow drains my drive. Or maybe it’s just politics. Image attribution: “Super … More
I had planned to blog about pigeon poses and heated flesh, about focused intentions and release, But here, my evening … More
The heartless ceramic eyes of the headless snowmen mock my third trip to the pharmacy. Will this day ever end?
Benadryl and scarlet cheeks clash terribly with screencast paper feedback. Perhaps popsicles, propped up pillow forts, and unplanned sick days will … More
She was a distracted woman, say the multiple tabs open on the widescreen desktop computer; a perimenopausal one too, says the … More