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Dry January For Catherine O’Hara It is better to leave Early, your audience still wanting more of you - soft touch, bad joke, homemade family recipe enchiladas. Why would one stick around for a bit - after the show, post curtain call, and politely clapping for the tech crew? There won’t be as many memes then. Shuffling off modestly or slipping away under high thread-count, quiet sheets. Heart declaring it has been boring here without beer or sex or all the reasons I hung arou

Catwoman as Leonine You were the only villain I longed to be. Tight, black leather, Whip. And, oh, those ears! So Soft to the rub. Little girls Are supposed to dream of being The heroine - or even that damsel - Distressed and waiting for rescue. No one confesses the power of In the anti-hero. That, sure, although The audience may despise you On the foamy surface, that under It all they cheer for your demons. Batman Is in love. Bruce Wayne sleeps next To those damsels he has c

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                 So much of it. There is no Scrooge-like       Intervention for someone Who lacks wisdom to be         Sorry. Narcissism Is a cruddy business        And will leave one     Alone and despised; Dancers in the street          At your demise. But, isn’t that what     He had hoped for             The whole time?

ART = AI he says art controls us — moves through us and out — has a “life of its own” — grows like artificial intelligence — but real. emotional intelligence —and fake. ( Read the lines on my face not the memes on my page .) make a move. call your friends. Franz Ferdinand. ( Friends Ferdinand ) the start of a new revolution — the computer generates vacant eyes and false words spoken — but you finger a grasp so painful arthritic pen needle paint brush      came