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  • vox poetica, baby

    I was featured on Annmarie Lockhart’s fantabulous poetry site, vox poetica, yesteray. http://poemblog.voxpoetica.com/ (a divination was the poem). Thanks, Annmarie for the shout out. 🙂

  • Poppy Time

    Tomorrow Poppy will undergo surgery for a tumor on her leg. About a year ago, she underwent a similar surgery for a lump that turned out to be cancer. While it’s not at this point a definite that this tumor is malignant, it’s probable, especially since it’s in the same place. The vet says he…

  • Tomorrow Is My Last Day of Work

    The hours are winding down counting down simultaneously counting up to the start up time lengthening and widening it’s time to pass Go and collect my $200

  • Approximation of the Conversation Bindo and I Had Via Facebook Just the Other Day

    MedicatedLady: who let the dogs out, bindo? Bindo: I love dogs and sunshine and butterflies. I welcomed the sun’s light this morning and rejoiced in the sound of birds’ singing. ML: What? Are you okay? B: I love puppies! ML: You’re using exclamations points these days? B: For the sake of puppies, yes! You have…

  • Hollow

    My esophagus feels hollow which makes no sense does it it’s not a cavity but an empty artery that’s supposed to be empty so why the hollowness feels so alien shuddering with my heartache is a mystery even webMD can’t seem to solve.

  • Palsy

    She had involuntary movements of her hand and neck the kind that makes an observer wonder exactly what the difference is between a palsy and a tic.

  • Tap Tap Tappedy Tap

    [Alas, it’s been a while. It’s not that I’ve grown away from you, dear reader; it’s that I’m a tap dancing fool who has to tap-tap-tap it out. I think you understand.] The shake-a-shake down: I just got a new job. I don’t have any new puppies. I recently got my hair did. I recently…

  • Lost Skin

    There is nothing quite as uniquely satisfying as a good book. A book of the soul, writing that just clicks with some inherent voice in your head. You won’t find me talking about authors’ love sonnets and classics, reciting flowing language that sags and droops like the lost, loose skin that falls in defeat when…

  • Sleepless

    The mania conspired to keep me from blogging (too many other things to do, do, do, do), to keep me from you, dear reader. But the truth is I’m less than poetic these days. My poetic plays consist of trazodone-induced neurological blunders, inverting numbers, declaring opposites. All of that is now gone and in its…

  • Repost: In Memory of Paul Squires

    In June of last year, Paul Squires participated in a fun survey I sent him with random questions about life and writing. In characteristic fashion, Paul gave engaging, funny, and thoughtful answers. He will be missed. *** June 14, 2009 Once again, I’ve asked a fantabulous writer and blogger some questions for those of us…