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I haven't practiced macramé since the early 80's. Someday, this may be a Christmas tree. This took many hours. #familycraftingday

Back Pages Collect words like knick- Knacks, shivering on the last Pages of a notebook. Waiting To come down off the shelf, Out of the storage bin, rise From the cellar - where Each had been deposited. Could I sell you at a White elephant  sale? To                     Young Poets desperate For meaning — clutching At the old clichés  — or Not grasping                      The one of them. Isolated in sleek boxes — Where glaring nothing Rots each hour, Like the crabapples     

Mental Load Invisible torture that rules Each day. Mother must Make things move. Missed Appointments and the other Unacceptables. Who can sleep In all this chaos? Need air Supply space cowboy Junkie cookie snacks and Carbon monoxide. Vacuum Up cat fur and dog — Walk. Wake. Shop. Fill stockings and run them. Who can breath or sit down To read a book or look. Remember breakfast nook Puzzles and how your Nana fed you there.

Death Date 'Cause I didn't think this would happen again No matter what I could do or say Just that I didn't think this would happen again With or without my best intentions   ~Liz Phair WPCR after-hours crooned from the countertop radio. Friends locked in a sound booth transmitting lyrics Straight to us at your fratless party        where he Stood over us so concerned about our Souls. Melting into the sofa or flowing Over and off of it. You kissed me, friend, And I kisse

Wasps How quickly we adjust, For the survival of us. Bought a few more days, Thanks to Climate Change. Terrify her students. Land Upon her wrist. None of us, not even one,             Asked for any of this. How quickly we adapt, As men redraw the maps. Buzz against the bulb,             It is dead and will not burn. Glide graceless onto hands With pens and sharpened tools. Die upon the rug, Still scaring little ghouls.

How Oddly One Falls One morning, we will wake up       Elated at the passing. So little harm at the loss        Of one who has done      ...

ART = AI he says art controls us — moves through us and out — has a “life of its own” — grows like artificial intelligence — but...

Java Script Let’s do coffee - early, Morn. Discuss politics And romance novels. Let’s drink a cup o’ Joe At the cafe on Main Street Of...

Gut Punch in the Grocery Lane ~ a Golden Shovel after Margaret Atwood Cannot get my hand to my heart in time to be useful every time the...

Stones in Pocket ~for MM Always the possibility lurks large when you have had enough of              this earth...

Vocabulary Lesson Her poems unlocked words, Hidden in a vault, yet perfect to name the now. A World blanketed in conflagration  - in all...

Cages Slither in no place To be your glass tank Prison. Coiled corner, A false heat stone - victims Dropped from god hands above - Also...

Who Needs These Stories There is a reason teachers are Some of the first to go; Vilified in the Propagandist’s artistry. Power is so good...

A section of Jarvis Rockwell's Us installation at Mass MoCA 2023 Rebel Scum Inspired by Us  by Jarvis Rockwell We, a parade of two, the...

Untitled Inspired by Kelli Ray Adam’s Forever in Your Debt We all pay for tenderness; Listen over morning bowls Of Rice Krispies popping...

Murder History So much of what makes it Into living history is death. Battles fought to keep Patriarchy secure. Men And their toxic...

WUYWABF Nature can be cruel - so, Of course, they decided She is a woman to devour Us, abandoned  here By your benevolent god. The little...

Mosh Pit Sol LeWitt - Negative Pyramid - Mass MoCA We are a structure          At Lollapalooza - The way you grab          My arm and...

Lap Sizzle up on the sand. Land with such monotony - Lulled into bliss. This Is what it is Supposed to be like. Her poem, about love, the...

Poet Mother Narratives leak from pencils. (The speaker is not always the poet.) Remember, you can hide ...