Seven Years of Bad Luck

Glass On the Ground

When things fall apart
they crumble

Often the flight down is subtle:
An unexpected series of events melding together

A friend may lend a hand,
A sister might call…

When things fall apart
they shatter

A spool of yarn unfurling itself:
wisps of string
flowing toward

Any Given Monday

Melting Pot

Stir it in the pot:
a touch of pain, an ounce of sadness.

My days go by like hollow dreams –
One day, two day,

Put it in the bowl:
A pinch of regret, a splash of shame.

Working my way through the weariness –
Three day, four day,

Sifting through the garbage,
Milling through the wreckage,
Looking for relief.

Some Kind of New York Times

Love and Its Pages You are like an old newspaper – comfortable, familiar, soft to the touch. I hold you in my hands, Running my fingers down your spine – I smell you: pasty, subtle, pleasant to my nose. Your … Continue reading

Of Grammar and Other Things

Syntax You know my intimate details: my commas, my periods, my exclamation points. How can I hide from you? Shared syntax, parallel structure, semicolons. You know my rhythm: my iambic pentameter, a-bb-a, my ups and downs. You have read the … Continue reading

Eat, Sleep, Obey

Life Lesson # 11 The Things We Believe What if we stopped believing what the world has to say about us? What if we stopped believing in the names people use to label us – black, white, yellow, light-skinned? I … Continue reading