Tomorrow I have to find a therapist for my nine year old daughter.
Isa looks just like me. She’s funny and sarcastic and impatient and gifted like me. And she’s totally obsessive-compulsive like me.
Continue reading “OCF’ND”Careful what you wish for
The day after I posted about cats, a hilarious thing happened. The Universe reads my blog apparently, because that morning my husband was looking out the window and he said “There’s kittens under the steps!”
What?
Cats
I have a long history of being obsessed with cats. I can’t have them because my husband is highly allergic. But I end up finding them or they find me. Continue reading “Cats”
My Mom
For Mother’s Day today, I’d like to recount a recent conversation I had with my mom.
Yup
It seems the whole world is cancelled due to Corona virus. People are wearing masks and gloves, memes about washing hands are everywhere, the news is full of doom and gloom…
Times like these are when my OCD smiles smugly to itself and yells “I TOLLLLDDDDD YOOOOOUUUUUU!”
The Pusher
Lying together after lackluster sex,
two hedonists using each other
for cheap and fleeting thrills,
we smoke cigarettes you stole
from the gas station counter
after charming the cashier
with your lightless smile
and counterfeit warmth.
Cancerous clouds curl
along the too-close walls,
blur what little gray light
struggles through the window
as you talk about
some future I cringe from
even envisioning
for this so-called relationship
based on what amounts
to drunken mistakes
and my inability to say no
to your sweet sweet drugs:
I don’t think I can have
a serious relationship with you
unless you
can open
your heart
to Christ.
Bubbles
Two poems about T.
I wrote the first poem during my poetry class in the fall of 2018, when my stepdad was showing mild signs of (read: successfully hiding) having dementia . The second one is more recent. This is me coming to terms with shit through poetry.
Didn’t We Fly
didn’t we fly
that chill autumn day
escaped from apple picking
to smoke secret cigarettes in the woods
on a rough dirt road to nowhere
when a half dozen boys
came on rumbling bikes
asked if we wanted
to go for a ride
we should have known better
and run for our lives
but we grinned at each other
and got on behind
and didn’t we fly
didn’t we fly
with the wind in our hair
and the sky whirling by
trailing shrieking laughter
my cheek pressed against
his warm farm boy back
arms holding tight
like I was in love
maybe just for that moment I was
didn’t we fly
didn’t we fly
that chill autumn day
now I’m older and wiser
and you’ve gone away
but I will always remember you
and that perfectly dangerous
beautiful day
didn’t we fly?
For Dawn Davis
Halloween
Halloween is gone another year, and this year was one of the best we’ve had so far. Continue reading “Halloween”
