Here at 48

It’s been a more-difficult-than-normal few weeks in the US for many women. Brutal for some. Just about every woman I know has been re-living their sexual assault, remembering their close calls, and/or listening to and comforting friends again who’ve been raped or...

Artist Statement

Poetry isn’t what I was taught in middle school: rules and stilted contained lines written by long-dead rich old white dudes? Bleh. (I am not my friend Knox who makes old white guys so sexy.) Poetry is living your artist statement. Whether that means saying yes...

Red Pleather Seats

Happy national poetry month! A flash poem a day, every day in April!   Red Pleather Seats above the lunch rush crowd a clattering, plates and cups two women sit alone reading in heaven a young boy, also alone on break from the kitchen intently checks his phone...

Dear Artist,

accept throwing out everything you knew was true each morning starting again from the beginning or well before then uncertainly receiving just one certainty each day some days, mine is a friend or a warm breeze or a cat other days, mine is a poem or an essay or a book...