Category: Uncategorized
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pineapples
after my adoption was finalized i spent lots of weekend and summer afternoons in the warm glow of a shiny green and gold kitchen two houses down from the rosens. a friendly young girl named jodi lived there with her younger brother, matt and their beloved family dachshund. there were a couple years between matt…
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all souls
the veil is thin, ‘gone’ she said. its absence and presence abound, the worlds are one. she feels it not only in the air or the ether but deep within her earthly bones and buzzing at the surface of her skin. there was that unsettling dream with the crown of her hair missing and then…
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foster lot
it isn’t a wonder they upend mei was a ward of the state once and only forever will be againwith just 7 years in the systemi understand public property and servitudestraight white lines drawn around empty stuck spacesonly ever coming or going,no stayingor resolveonly waitingwith desire,and ignominyfor things that do not come to foster lots…
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conscious uncouplet-ing
from the high tight corner of an old breakfront hutcha sturdy chain of glossy green leaves grows up and over and down the side of a cracked terra cotta pot.at once, the plant vine dangles then snaps in the chubby hand of a triumphant toddler below.the jutted brown stalk is left empty a second stem…
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fairy tigers
an animated tigersings sweetly to my attentive daughterpretending words that don’t rhyme do:‘grooown-ups come backkkkkkk’ my children,(my dear, sweet, innocent children)are being raised by a woman whose grown-ups didn’t come backsome days it feels like i’m giving them more than i had just by being here-other days, all forgotten lies & fairy tales.
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unrelinquished
i want it to be goodi believe, that if it issome of the goodness on the page therewill leap up from it and impale itself in me i will stop feeling the sleight of my delinquency then my possession of bones and skin, a heart, both handswill relinquish themselvesfrom the lovethat made them give it…
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the school bus
it doesn’t stop in front of our house. ours is the kind of house no one stops in front of. stares at? sure. whispers about? certainly. but only ever from the safety of their moving cars or curious bodies. our bus driver’s name is kimberly, but she isn’t one; she’s tough, a single working mother…
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always remember
last year, in time with the 20th anniversary of the 9/11 attacks, i listened to, ‘long shadow- 9/11’s lingering questions’- an 8-episode podcast by reporter and author garrett graff. it was a well done and disturbing yet beautiful depiction of what we all experienced in some way that fateful day, i as a twenty-year-old college…
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good fortune
the view is aerial. you’re flying. on a train, through the sky. clickity-clack-zoom-zoom. you land in a place called texas but you swear the sign said “welcome armadillo”. either way it’s your family who greets you at the bus stop. or rather people who look like your family but don’t behave like them. when you…
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freebird
you have a way with wordsshe said once, in earnest but all the words I ever spoke back then were all the words I knew she’d like to hear so really it was the words who were having their waywithme through trialand mostly error,I have discerned most people would rather notlook atorlisten toa grown woman…
santos scribes 