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Tickle your toes. . .
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Ah, 7. The number in question. During this process of developing my first full-length work of prose, and a memoir to boot, I have considered...
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strange tree, your flowers look like badminton birdies.
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driving home from the farmer's market- I can't see anything- through this storm- I come home to sleep- with you-rest in your arms fu... -
sex object. not afraid of the words. I've used many objects for the sake of sex. in fact my body has been pretty disposable- I don't...
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Cal, For Elizabeth Bishop You are American gossip, Didn't anyone have the heart to tell you? You said yourself, you are fantastic and u...
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My latest endeavor is to begin reading "Tell it Slant: Writing and Shaping Creative Nonfiction" by Brenda Miller and Suzanne Paula...
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I am the palm touching my cheek, and hiding my face, I am dead nerve endings--pulsating alive again, I am the little girl who cuddles viciou...
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I took a week off from writing this lovely, to take a bite out of a creamy, syrupy, delicious chunk of my memoir. I have begun to tackle the...
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This week has allowed me to get back in the swing of things to use a cliche that I adore. This particular cliche allows me to be vague with ...
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as I left the waterfront and I climbed up the sandy stair as always his brothers were first; to greet me. I've had past dealings with th...
Poets United Contributor
yay! i'm glad you'll still be here, too. x
ReplyDeleteCan't wait - bring it on!
ReplyDeletereading them again here and all at once will be an interesting experience - i look forward to it :))
ReplyDelete