stand gently here, my friend breathe listen after the storm two bottles, half empty produce a haunting song making harmonies like telephones lines tinselled with dripping light they're not entwined like lover trees but see them bathe taking on evening and sky's renaissance purple Written for Mish's dVerse Quadrille #142 (include the word tinsel)
I said: "I want to run away from my fingernails". We laughed but I don't think it's funny. My fingernails are disgusting. After all the things, this is what bothers me. They're pushing up like irksome trolls are hiding underneath their tongues, thick as concrete, oozing out. I was poisoned carefully (measured and meted) and … Continue reading As it is…
We who wander in the orchard are lost, howling with owls, these embittered nights among twisted apple trees. Body parts sloughed as we slumber: the busy din of scalpel bearers saving lives. Lest we forget. I never knew that mourning is a private act a spiral inwards for strength and these dictionaries we call souls. … Continue reading Mastectomy
who is she? face like mine but aged in a tiny sudden way surprising as a pond - murky water turned mother of pearl a dance-floor for the sky time is a galaxy pinpointed and vast I find security counting frost hairs around a leaf; photographing rain drops in the puddles the trees swing deep … Continue reading reflections
One night, before I lost my hair, a very dear friend and I had a long online chat which had me in stitches. From picturing myself bald, with a tweed peaked cap and horn-rimmed glasses, we suddenly invented a whole new character - Alpatooti. This mysterious being brought me so much laughter - along with … Continue reading The Roller Ride
So, last week I cut a lot of my hair off. It used to come about half way down my back. Now - well the longest bits are about 10 centimetres and, although the hair dresser never got out the clippers, the back is very short. Like, you can't make it messy. I made this … Continue reading Impacts.