It’s Me, Pearl.

It’s Me, Pearl. An Ode to Janis Joplin It’s never me, it’s you, except that it’s always me, it has never not been me, it has never not been some glaring inadequacy of me, when at my best, it was me, unintentionally, making everyone else feel bad, about whatever they weren’t, because my own inadequacies … Continue reading It’s Me, Pearl.

The Daring Muse.

In moments daring, her heart shown through her breast, a rapid rhythm that if she confessed, held more inside its chambers than he knew, in every moment, every breath she drew, some shred of hope that if he saw her there, he'd understand that no love could compare, and save her from her anguish and … Continue reading The Daring Muse.

Scheherazade.

I fear your disapproval, Wrecked by the names you have called me, Without saying a word. Lost to myself and others. Having become my own fiction. Righting myself only to fall again. My sense of humor taken leave. My wounds reopened. I seek a fortress, I seek your arms to be a shelter. Aged in … Continue reading Scheherazade.

Lionel Ritchie

Is it that I sometimes limp? My bump top foot? Dry skin? My belly? Less than ample Amplitudes? My knees? The way I sneeze? Is it, perchance, my posture? A little lacking now, Under all of this? Is my frustration, exhaustion Beautiful? Wouldn't a mail order bride Be more suitable? She could learn to cook, … Continue reading Lionel Ritchie