I found a big collie like a wolf -- he was everything to me.
I asked for him for years.
I moved. I moved. I moved.
I fell out of trees I climbed.
Men took advantage of me and some took me across the country.
I hurt people and I didn't mean it but that's how self-destruction goes.
There was a lot of cat hair.
I looked at stars. Stars looked at me.
My dad died.
My dad's mom was hard to deal with
but I think that's because I had to do her laundry
and fold her large silk panties
and she said I had a nose like a pig.
It's time I got over that.
I miss the relationship we never had.
Eating disorder treatment center.
And all the disorder before, after that.
Running away with a con man sociopath.
Writing saved my life.
A high school English teacher said my story was filth,
so I didn't writ another until ten years passed.
I turned to playwriting and prop mastery.
I made lots of mistakes.
I fell in love with everyone.
One for four years.
We played house.
Then it was too much.
Then I found the one I'd loved for years and years.
I am the slinking panther falling down rock into prey, mouth baring
I am the gypsy moth drawn to light in darkness
I am the surface of pond skimming under skippers
Rushing, opening, still
I was the avalanche
I am the campfire
I will be constellations
I see with yellow eyes that cloud over brick
I wash through land in algae water--
Over rocks, make them crisp smooth brilliant
My growl heard over a hundred countrysides
My ears open to sunset showers
My hands lifting daddy long legs to safe grass
Hear the sandpipers
Catch a salmon
Find ocean bottom
That place less explored than solar system
What am I missing?
Where am I?
Where am I now?
What am I?
Where am I now?
This chameleon shape shifter
Who do you see in this mirror
Who do you want to see in this empty boat
I am the space between ( )
shadow in the glass
moon howling, the expanse
quiet proud mountain peaks
reach snow tops to grey sky, drowning
I poke them from the boat
don't forget sage
and don't forget me, please
white clouds blinding photo prints
I miss your stellar mind and heart
Where is California? When are you here?
How far is sky? How empty is dirt?
the sea ate everything else
globe overwhelmed by rocky blue
where no earth is visible from sky
white expanse, meeting flood
poor fruit, fallen away
us discarded collectors
roam and savaging
my parents never saw land
but their parents
who I never met
but I heard stories
when everything was dry, dry dry
then flashes flooding washing over us
the us before
the us now,
our bodies changing, Mom says
our fingers webbing
I am the sandpiper that skips over stones on our walk
I squawk like you talk and kick steps hip hop
I want to slow inside, steady willow dripping down
To fill with seeds, soften
To find weight, sink
My nature drowns in much muchness
To root down, fall into earth
Watch humans rush
To find now, be, notice
No speeding through air clouds
Heart like ocean, brain like universe
Push down, pull up, legs grip, still wavering stalks
There at my throat back, venus fly trap sprouts.
Noticed when I woke to teeth grinding, my night ritual.
But this time, a sour bug taste instead of iron grit.
A buzzing glimmer, then
My mouth zapped shut inside my mouth.
Teeth under teeth.
I pressed inside at long needles stabbing my finger, clamping down.
Stinging blood on my prints, jerking away.
Afraid of the mirror but too curious to avoid.
A shower to clear head, wash face, keep jaw closed.
Wiped fog off glass, plucked brows and brushed hair,
But to clean teeth, I had to open.
And inside, this monster plant glaring whites open for a brush too.
I snapped my clamp back shut, resigned to silent halitosis.
Process notes on a work in progress. This page serves to invite you into the way I work, with intermittent posts to show you the hows and whys on the whats I make, as well as prompts and ideas I bring to certain workshops. There will also be some raw, rough content found in notebooks written years ago, previously posted on: