Chocolate Cake

Not even a year since you’ve been gone, and though I have no right to weigh my loss against your wife’s or your son’s— or anyone else who knew you, the weight was lifted a little when just this afternoon I saw a mutual friend who knew you even longer and better than me, andContinue reading “Chocolate Cake”

The Ending

Today would be your 59th birthday and I’m not sure how I feel or what I’m allowed to feel which is exactly how I felt when you were alive and I knew it was wrong to love you but there didn’t seem to be a way to stop and now that you’ve ended I can’tContinue reading “The Ending”

Eulogy for the Unknown Poet

There will be no mention of the poems on the day the poet is covered by the earth because no one will know they exist until the house is entered and the discovery is made of a thousand poems scribbled in notebooks and on scraps of paper stuffed into the bottom dresser drawer. The serviceContinue reading “Eulogy for the Unknown Poet”


I thought everyone wanted to fly— weightless, wingless, pressed against the blueness of gravity if only to look down just once, like a bird, wondering what it’s like to be human— grounded so hard against the earth. Which is why, whenever I see a helicopter, I always remember those two boys, back in 2003, weightlessContinue reading “Helicopters”

Small Suffering

Small suffering is for the page only— for this white rectangle flecked with black letters that spell out the complaints of the lucky, the fortunate, the fed, the ones like me who know that no voice should ever carry the sound of our tiny disappointments, which are, compared to the real pain of others— nothingContinue reading “Small Suffering”


Such a common name you had— and still, every time I hear it, it belongs to you, and those three letters pull me, no kicking or screaming, back to that street where you lived, where every morning you said hello— and I said hello, and we smiled and wished, and were silent, which was allContinue reading “Jim”

Shovels (A poem for a friend with a broken heart)

They dig. And then they dig deeper and deeper. Their only wish is to seek and reveal— and in the process there will be scuffs that fill with mud and harden and chip off again and finally, when they find their treasure they go back to work— a little shinier now— and fill in allContinue reading “Shovels (A poem for a friend with a broken heart)”


The editor wanted it short: a bio between 50 and 75 words— my irreducible life reduced to a footnote, a sound bite— key words required to tread water with “the’s” and “is’s” and “she’s”— those words which are like grout between the shiny tiles of the mosaic. What’s my most impressive fingerprint of words? CouldContinue reading “Reduced”

So Little

What I want is to yell. I don’t want to lower my voice like a life boat into the angry sea. I want to throw things and I want them to break into many useless pieces- and I want to empty the glue into the trash. I don’t want you to hear me again. IContinue reading “So Little”

The Mother Artist Project

I’ve been following The Mother Artist Project for a while now, a wonderful tribute to mother artists, and I’m very excited that I’m featured this week! Here’s my interview, along with some photos of my work and two poems…