Reentry: A Love Poem

Last night I attended a poetry workshop on writing love poems– it’s focus was on writing love poems that aren’t grandiose, sappy, saccharine, etc. It was a fun conversation with some fellow women whose wordsmithing impressed and inspired me. I imagine I’ll keep playing with the piece I started during the workshop, but for now,…

A Love Letter to My Eczema

Today’s poem was inspired by finding an event in my calendar that apparently one year ago me decided to leave for future me. It was a heads up that the weather is probably changing which means my skin is probably pissed, or will be soon. It gave some love, reassurance, and reminders of how to…

Explaining Your Religion in Triage

These days, I typically only get asked about my religious beliefs when I’m at my yearly physical, or in triage at the hospital. Which is to say, it’s not super common. Still, I always chuckle to myself when they ask. Is it in case I die here today? So they’ll know which type of spiritual…

What Is There Left To Say?

There were children murdered and injured at school yesterday. There were children murdered at school yesterday, once again, and we didn’t even talk about it. We went to bed, woke up, ate breakfast— business as usual on the surface. I felt hollow sending her off to school, kissing my husband goodbye. Is it on his…

Must Be Nice

I watched a video the other day of a kangaroo, and the baby she had just given birth to. It looked like science fiction, or a cartoon plot imagined and developed by a first-grader. This massive kangaroo with her shoulder muscles bulging, her tail dense and capable of destruction. Legs for days. This kangaroo gave…

How It Feels

The man who reads the skies says today will feel like 105—never mind the thermometers,conspiring and lying at 96. Who decides what it will feel likeand what kind of scale do they use?Is there a finger licked andthrust up into the windor do they poll sweaty people melting down the city streets? Is there a…