Writers Always Work

You know, any excuse to show Jack.

Talk to all these men about work work work.

Trying to see if they don’t have an Identity without

that work, career, upwardly mobile, obsessive label

Since I stopped working for a pay check

work is lots of things that one persists at,

anything that is creative and needs attention.

The last 3 novels I’ve read around the pool

sipping on iced coffee made me think, the

work of a writer is all in the head. Maddening actually.

That is why any good writer is never a dull boy.

 

 

By any other Name

Their names are as beautiful as their petals

Hydrangea, Sea Foam Statice and Yarrow

Bought some Agapanthus just to say it for a week

Sweet tall spikes of Delphinium wake me each morning

 

Not Fair

Blame whomever you like!

It is what it is.

Now what happens next,

is always up to you.

This game of life.

Two Ears

 

They are open,

they are up,

everything receivable.

Fear subsides

with no answers

yet.

 

 

 

Woo Woo Friday

This would never happen to you.

There I was at a nice pot luck,

wanting to meet new people.

Throwing myself into uncharted

territory. The women relate

all their excursions with goddesses

and the men talk about energies.

Bedtime for me with a tinfoil

pyramid night cap. Maybe the YMCA.

 

 

$1.5 Million for Screenplay

I won’t give it away

but

women are not innately good

in a Best Seller

as long as she

is beautiful

Who Cares!

Chihuly

Your work gives light joy

Frontier

I am a teacher and my culture pays me little

I am a mother and my culture stereotypes my babies

I am a lover and my culture values only youth

I am a leader and my culture calls me uppity

I am free and my culture will have to let me protest

Batchagaloop

Crossing the line here of decency and truth.

He lies in a Veterans Administration hospital bed.

Louie came here four years ago, the aging Italian,

who tried to kiss my face and sweet talk me like

those rat packers in the movies, all slicked back hair.

His stories of his Catholic Church set us apart,

yet today I pray to his Jesus to pull him through.

 

Reliable

On the old porch, many would hover over the rocker,

drink from the feeder and entertain just inches away.

In the mountain home, there every night is one that

perches just as the sun sets,  being a sillouette friend.