I hear it's a common complaint-- the alarm clock. It is jarring, grating, aggressively braying, the digital jackass sitting on my side table. Wearily each night I plug in my time, a begrudging tap-tap-tap to 4:30 every day and squint through tired eyes as it tells me just how long I have-- down to the … Continue reading April 21 : On Alarm Clocks
Full sunshine warming winter-weary grass, Ready to throw open the windows and invite in the air. Inside is cool and quiet-- we fall asleep on accident. Dancing tree limbs sprinkled with new buds, Ants stealing crumbs from around flip flopped feet. Yesterday we said goodbye to our overcoats.
What if I had pink hair, I wonder. Like a fairy godmother, an ethereal vision of gentle disposition, peony petal soft, a harlequin romance heroine in pastel. But maybe (probably) like a frizzy and frazzled manic pixie dream girl snapping over-chewed bubble gum between snarled teeth. Maybe on a different girl, with smaller hips and … Continue reading April 19 : Pink Hair
I. Wake up early-- run late. Who is the queen of your hive? If not you, then who? II. Pollinate the world. Grow wildflowers between rocks. Make honey at home. III. Stinger like harsh words. You cannot undo the hurt. It will hurt you, too.
Young beauty waltzes in the door just past dawn, bronze skin buffed to shining, framed by black-brown hair-- a yard of silk down her back. Slim hands slide a bill across the counter and she tells me "Keep the change." A gum-pink tongue dances behind her teeth, the pointed pearls so perfect and bright. My … Continue reading April 16: Chagrin
Typewriter Moon 