Monthly Archives: April 2015


Like numbers, when we start,  we’re meant to stand alone, 1
As we grow, becoming larger and larger, we’re supposed to be joined by another,
Two by two we stand, 11
Until we’re joined by another,
Fruits of our union,
As we grow together,
We grow larger,
Three by three, 111
And then four by four, 1,111
Then the comma starts coming in,
The hardships of life,
First they threaten to make us feel alone, 1 (, )111
One against three,
Then we grow larger and larger,
Fruits of other unions, 11,111
We’re joined by another, and then another
Till we are never alone again.



What writing is like for me

It’s like I’m feeling my way through the darkness
to the heart
my blind gaze searching with my ghostly arms
feeling the way ahead for me
and then I encounter it,
The heart,
and my ghostly arms go through it
taking away some of it
opening it, and the feelings pour through,
The magic, and then I write
rote becoming something else,  something frantic and magical
the words coming faster than I can write them,
and some other times, my ghostly arms,
they encounter the heart so hard and so fast that they are solid for a second,
they pull it with them for a second
Leaving my elastic heart to snap back in place.
I feel it.
The hurt, the pain, waves of critical malady bleeding through,
reaching out and embedding themselves in my words
I’m coming through in a torrent that is beyond magic
A torrent that is wholly me, all me,
so much so that I want to hide it,
put it all back
and sew the valve shut.
Those are the best words
Maybe the worst parts of me
The ones I write and shut away.