eavesdropping

hitting bottom on my second glass of wine
hearing laser sharp, vision glazing
crumpled paper menu and sleuthing pen
seated at table
situated near bar
and men wearing baseball caps

…like she’s
she’s a wanderer
always wants to walk back to Florida
…like a two year old
yea, my mom went through that
got her in a place now
thought she was back in high school
said she was prom queen
that’s when we knew
twilight years
God bless ’em, when you can keep ’em
better sometimes forgettin’
don’t wanna remember mine
maybe we’ll see grandma dancin’ on a pole
she did think she was prom queen

oatmeal walls

 

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concerning my libido

if it’s a deep kiss you want
let’s do it
my feet left the floor
last month
in anticipation of this moment
xxx warning xxx
my desire outweighs my conscience
for this reason
I sometimes neglect the morning newspaper
don’t want to risk a good feel

while luxuries abound in my life
how rotten am I
worrying about
a kiss
a caress
my libido
in worldly places
where breathing moments are precious

passionate dalliances are often secured
by fashionista souls treading upon Pietra Firma tile
and silk bodies illuminated beneath chiseled sconces
so tonight
lips will ripen
with fine red wine
matching tapered candles lit
but not one faith-bearing votive
will glow in service

I Naturally/mixed media

art-from college way back, corporate identity class

I was once a ballerina and other tall tales

swing dancer

did you know I was once a ballerina and a boxer
a journalist and a jouster
and that I intensely dislike
rhymes of any kind
except
beloved Theodor
always gets a pass
he once told me
I’d go places
you never did
there are more things about me
too
like the precious items I squirrel
in an old wine box
did you know
I can’t stop my heart
from falling
even when I know
you won’t be there to catch it
and
(this)
I wish you knew more things
about me
then may(be)
I could figure
my(self)
out just a bit better
and add to my box
of precious things
whose lid
stopped opening
long ago

and no, I didn’t slug wine when I was little
at the time it was blood from cup–I was praying with classmates
(a tiny sip)
but the wine box
came from our basement
where all useful things usually end up
after everyone forgets their usefulness
and I stopped entering churches
when I stopped opening boxes

heaven or hell

it’s probably a big mistake to be pressing these keys right now
there are so many things pressing inside my chest
is it possible to come out of this
as one person with one dream
when everything leading up to the dream is fantasy
the impressionists began as an anonymous group
maybe I could be unknown
a founding member of the “what the hell” group
we could laugh and never care
about anything until we have to
and at that point we’d only need worry about two options
no more than that
heaven or hell
I’d simply select
which ever one has the best wine list
and maybe a tattoo parlor

Angel Cone

floating lazy girl

cheap sheers billowing
sails concave free of their masts
distant rumbling trains replace desolate ship moans
generous skies mimic seas of powder blue
flailing sparrow songs octaves up
high-altitude seagulls perhaps
aromatic sea salts stuffed
in cardboard cylinders
it’s been awhile since I’ve slept on warm sand
can’t remember the last time I heard laughter on the beach
needed the ocean today
settled for the Lazy Boy by the window
sipping modest merlot
waiting for the undertow to pull me out to sea
lazy girl

Mermaid Girl

Mermaid Girl

rendered a few months ago

The Squirrel’s Wine Box

My Friends,
They say to have a memory like an elephant is to never forget. I have a terrible memory but the smarts of a squirrel. When I was little, I filled a shoebox with my most precious things. I squirreled away items I wanted to be buried with – like an Egyptian king. In my teens I swapped my shoebox for a sturdy wooden one. I still take my Riunite box out now and again to walk the sure-footed steps of an elephant. I take out each item and remember what I never want to forget…
ElephantHere’s my Memory Box
Memory BoxAnd I share with you its precious contents
Memory innardsItems- manilla folder stuffed with special letters, locks of love cards, b/w photo of my high school softball days, the first horse I ever bought with my own money, a little jewelry tin filled with junk trinkets, my baby shoe, the collar from my first dog, small church books from my Catholic grade school, my first Christmas stocking, my first pair of eye glasses, my cool button “Real People Wear Fake Fur”, my Prentice Hall business card, a Matchbox car, rocks I painted for 9/11, the beautiful poem Ithaca, by C.P Cavafy

Thank you. May your dreams be full of adventure and discovery.
Elephant in prisma pencil 2007.
Memory collection beginning in 1970…Memory photos taken today