She licked her wicked wounds and revealed her exotic and disturbing past on occasion at ladies luncheons and rotary breakfasts.When she dove into the dust of her back yard she pulled out apricot trees, watermelons, plums, pomegranates and even roses. Selma flowered in the relentless sun that would whip her sheets dry in a flash.
It’s sorta like if a tree falls in the forest and your name comes thundering out of the ground, shaking the birds and the worms and the little critters in the soil, was it there a minute before? Prob’ly not. When did it get there—when the tree fell or in my case, when she felt a little winsome.
All that energy scibbered away.
It sprung me: toss it in or let it out?
Maybe I could have spent it better
making something to hold onto…a nice pot.
Before My Piano Lesson Cat Woman, pale and severe, was systematic: first the older daughter; then the little one. She spit in her hankie and rubbed their faces. The girls were compliant. Walking up the stairs for my lesson, I’d pray that Cat Woman would just read her magazine this week. I’d take out my [...]
We will not cast people out for their choices in lip color, hosiery, language, religion, or the lack thereof. We will try to be “with it,” but not too with it—if you know what I mean.
When I long to “run away”, it’s not just fear of that special vulnerability –trying to create art and knowing it just might be shit. No, it’s fear of loneliness, pointlessness, a life unwitnessed and unconnected.
I thought I was done with commentary on the world of computer dating for a bit, but then I discovered an old favorite phenomenon. Everything old is new again. Dear Mr. Malaprop: I’ve always enjoyed your Grandma (Great? Great Great? Well of course she’s at least great, whatever the generational aspect.) You can imagine how [...]
Parties of the first and second part:
Whereof two bile ducts agree to be stingy;
two hearts to pour generous;
ears pledge to listen more than two tongues wag;
tell tales and re-remember.
Most of these [Google] results were asshole tests—no we’re not talking hemorrhoid diagnostics. I guess people need to find out if they are assholes. I mean that seems natural; I know plenty of assholes and I don’t think they know they qualify.
My fun is in highlighting annoying, weird, crazy stuff that really happens. (Actually, I’m more focused on routine misses and reveals.) Since I’m almost at the end of my patience for this week, let me just get this off my chest: