the longest list

if it were only a matter of a hungry dog and trash that needed to be taken curbside ease is how i would label my life of ordinary heroism taking small steps walking on the stilettos of hope i wake before dawn making room for lunch by noon late a necessary evil i have long…

sometimes i just have to say…thank you

he props me up giving the illusion that it is alone that i stand pushed forward there is no opportunity to even wave goodbye to the life i wish i had known like a wet winter morning the sun does not dawn yet behind the clouds its warmth is apparent unfrozen animated by the force that…

why cry when you can rumba

if only i’d known dancing was a choice i’d have shaken my shimmie waltzing myself out more doors than you could count i would have salsa-ed and fox trotted till my toes bleed instead i’ve held  up wallpaper and maintained cushions i’ve twirled on office chairs and scooted my way down corridors to tones made up…

life without credit…there are worst things

here’s the thing i’m an american. i’m an american without a usable credit card. and to be honest i’m beginning to wonder if maybe that makes me less of an american than the american i was before when i was the proud carrier of multiple low interest high privilege cards of credit. i’m inconvenienced. alot….

yep…

its the kind of day a hot shower can’t solve the kind of day when even after everyone is settled the house still feels loud its the kind of day when your mind races at maximum speed but your limbs seem to be locked in slow motion its that day when staying in bed is…

midlife aspirations

wind against my face i race hugging the wall the music behind me the pace i keep my own my first freedom wheels to wood floor sweat pouring down my back i lean into it steady and balanced cute not my agenda i’m going for fierce and strong i race no one in particular one…

do the math (half is considerably less than all)

she hates me. she is sitting across from me, her big brown eyes jacketed hollow point bullets. inside i am dying. “she can have it,” i mutter. my lawyer gawks at me stunned. “she can have the house.” i stare out the window shutting out my lawyer’s protestations. my hands remember her hair fanned out…