I will not tiptoe in glass slippers when I was made to run with the Sword of Shan Yu.


January 30, 2019

She plans like a winner--

racing faster than the woman on her left

speeding ahead the man on her right

they are now far behind her

mere footprints behind the dust of her own.

She crosses the finish line with her hands waving in the air

like a champ


September 23, 2018

I used to tell stories for prizes as I slid into the

skin of a new girl, already in character awaiting my turn

I listened to the other stories in my round and remember a girl

named Miracle who set herself on fire

to see if she was real—

Miracle, her chara...

September 23, 2018

Rain falls--tapping like cold chatters that creep through my

windowpane as thoughts

slip off my body, soaked

in the absence of thought 

September 23, 2018

Before I swallowed the pills

I matched a turquoise sweater

with pastel beads

because I wanted to die


But I got scared and called for

help when I started to lose my breath

Streetlights blurred

past a splintering headache that sawed
through my ribcage...

September 8, 2018

she’s facing the water

ankles crossed tenderly as her body

sets up camp like a tent

on Earth’s beach

where wisps of her white blonde hair

twist and tangle to the direction of the wind

toes shifting cool sand amongst the 

spaces between them as

sounds of wave...

September 5, 2018

Mom is next door drinking with her pal, Deb, while dad lies on the recliner in darkness listening to Gordon Lightfoot’s “Cold on the Shoulder.” I tiptoe behind him, open the freezer just a crack so the light doesn’t disrupt, snatch the carton of cook...

September 2, 2018

frail and incoherent you were fading fast

when a flash of clarity washed upon you

and you summoned us near

to say the farewells only you

and God

knew were impending 

threads of love intertwined in a tapestry

of holding you

your breath labored and unsteady


August 30, 2018

scarecrow skulls woven from straw scratch the surface of 

skin where stories sing softly humming

haunted melodies that peer from sockets

starving for deliverance. 

August 23, 2018

He was 93 years old and lived long and well

his dark leather-like skin formed creases that flowed across his face

like a maze

at the sides of his gently closed eyes, along the corners of his smooth lips

and in every empty space in between—

the creases ove...

August 19, 2018

A package arrived in the mail today

dated December 31, 2011—

back when I was still pregnant

with colorful pictures of smiling infants

taped across the box’s surface

with my breath held and my chest pressing against my skeleton,

I grab a knife and cut along...

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mommy, author, opera singer, daycare director, person


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