A Facebook quiz told me I am Ophelia. Ouch. Ophelia? Why not sharp-witted Beatrice who fell for Benedick, a man who could handle, well, her. Or, if I have to be in the maudlin and mad category, couldn’t the quiz have awarded me Lady Macbeth? Cruel, ruthless, yes, but determined nonetheless. But Ophelia? It felt like a…… Continue reading Ophelia –National Poetry Month Day 12
I don’t know what’s going to happen. It’s a sentence that slips past his lips, as an explanation. A justification. He says it’s logic–rationality, but– I call bullshit. Fear drives these decisions, uncertainty guides our choices. Two paths–like that Robert Frost poem– that, despite appearances, are both choked with weeds, branches snagging and scratching at…… Continue reading Ambiguity–National Poetry Month Day 11
Listening to Thao’s “Meticulous Bird”: is its tale love or vengeance?
irritated with the feel of skin over joints Weary of myself.
the gurgling hiss and sputter of coffee pot promise revival.
tap tap tap go the keys scratch scratch goes the pen. working on a saturday morning while voices outside circle around the windows and invite me out.
it loosens my tongue and stirs up my emotions. Gin is wicked stuff.