Viola feels short of breath sometimes. Sitting. She tries to inhale but her desert lungs can’t keep in the life that air contains. She passes time watching her fingertips tremble and tests the control of making them stop. Be natural. Stop. Continue reading
raining. outside of my ordinary window.
i sent you sealed envelope confessions.
wrapped in blankets of cause. i wanted
to give you everything. to make you better.
you say you hate it all. you would rather
not talk about being. Continue reading
a divine return to nothing but words… no title…
morning enters my lungs.
tightening abdominally. inhaling. possible…
we speak across oceans.
and back. Continue reading
After my recent dive into poetry I read some of my book today:
LIfe in two worlds: a mostly memoir
The reason I refer to it as a “mostly” memoir is because there have been many unbelievable things to occur in this rendition of life I walk. I figure when I’m famous and start getting interrogated by cats who say, “There’s no way that really happened,” I can simply retaliate with the clever reply, “You’re right – I made it up.”
Anyways. It’s kind of exciting to read a living, breathing piece of work. Sometimes it has fangs and sometimes it feels like silk. It’s scented with sandalwood and fresh cut grass.
It’s coming along… Continue reading
Namaste blog family
My recent spoken word videos have me feeling inspired and all delicious like. However, I fear that if I keep posting them here in our lovely land of language… they’re going to eat my page.
I can’t quite voice my rational – but it has something to do with techy band-like things. Continue reading