wayward words

Let them come, invited or not. Let them come, muttering nonsense. Let them come with their long arms, with booger-yellow eyes, with red-rimmed noses, with dandruff and braces and zits. Let them come with an eggplant streusel sandwich that you definitely didn’t order. Let them come, even as you say “Fuck off, I’m full.” Let […]


Tiki’s eyes are yellow, and she watches me from halfway up the stairs. Who can blame her, when I keep swooping down on her and squirting yellow medicine into her mouth? Or worse: stuffing her in a box and driving her to the big echoey place with the dogs and the needles. She likes it […]

losing it

  Sometimes I lose the image, but it never really leaves. It rolls under the driver’s seat and stays there for months: out of sight, if never completely out of mind. And if I sometimes hear it rattling, I can tell myself it’s only gravel from the road. In the car, I have control of the […]

a different kind of gratitude

“Well,” she’d always say, “you survived.” As if that were enough. And I’d lie on my bed with the blanket pulled up over my head so nobody could see me. And I’d think, “This is not living, this is just existing.” Thank you, delicate measuring device of my body, for weighing it all and saying […]

birth day

“Who does she look like?” they asked, when I first emerged. “Herself,” you said. For nine months I slept inside your skin while you made my bones from yours, but I don’t remember any of that. Of course I mistook you for God. Who are you? I mean: who am I? It takes more than […]

we have schedules to keep

“We have schedules to keep,” she says. Fine.  Keep your schedules.  Christmas first, then my birthday, then yours: keep them all.  I don’t want them anymore. Leave me by the side of the road.  Keep walking, and take your schedules with you.  There’s something we left behind, and I can’t go on without it.   You […]

a maidenform bra

I’m trying to remember if I ever had a Maidenform bra.  Maybe when I was a so-called maiden (with the implication being that my skin & eyes & mouth were somehow less sacred than my little unripe cunt).  I had tiny little maiden breast buds then. Maidenform.  Shouldn’t there be a brand called Smash the […]