Tag: #iphone photos
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(Following is an excerpt from my novel, The Last Butterfly, that I’m workshopping this week at Colgate University in New York…feeling excited to reconnect with these characters…finally going to finish my edits/plot-hole fixes! It’s told in the voice of Luna, a 15 year old who lives in the deadzone of what was once central Indiana,…
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This is a picture of my heart unfolding fragile beautiful thing— like your heart and every heart. Tender red beating strong enough to push gallon after gallon of blood around and around spinning dizzy two thousand gallons every day, day after day. Or it might just be a tulip.
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Dear iphone, We are not so different, you and I, aside from the blood pumping in my veins and our obvious size difference, me so large and pillowy soft compared to your flat hard rectangular slipperiness. Oh, you go everywhere with me, like a shadow or a best friend (but maybe you are more shadow…
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I’ve been a bit sick the last few days. Actually, I’ve felt really, really crappy, and unable to work until today. I felt both emotionally and physically ill. The anniversary of the election of the pussy-grabber, the unfolding exposure of so many #metoo stories, and the fact that there are still so many supporters &…
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Today is my birthday. So much has happened since I exited my mother’s womb those many years ago. The story of my birth and my mother’s labor are lost forever. All I have are a few hazy details. “Oh I had twilight sleep,” my mother told me. “No memory of any of it,” she said,…
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back through time I lumber back through time unrooted over boulders gap-eyed water glinting pink sunset unrooted I slide through mud into sand into lake stone wash hillsides caving in I am caving in all I have to hold onto all I can carry this basket, sweet-grass woven Inside is my pacifer rubbery round I…
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Fear-based attachments are physically addictive, states the psychiatrist in the book I’m reading. (Is that why this nightmare isn’t over yet?) Explains things: why ugly hazing rituals cement bonds why that friend of a friend won’t leave her abuser (Oh, and she may also know he’ll kill her, if she tries, but people will still…
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I took my car to the dealership this afternoon. I brought my work along, dreading having to tune out the flash and blare of the ginormous big-screen TV in the “customer lounge.” Ironically, the last time I was at the dealer, trying to ignore the television, it was Inauguration day. Me, a woman who hasn’t…
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Prompt: Close your eyes. Breathe. Name a fear you have. Breathe again. Now, write about where it lives in your body. 10 minutes, go: My fear is not being understood by the people I love. This fear lives in the dungeon of my throat. It is the murky water at the bottom of a bottomless…
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