Twenty years ago today I was killed and you were not You still grieve—Stop it, Dork! You let me sit up front Even though I was The younger brother—way to go, Ace! You knew I was dead Even before the drunk Drove up the off ramp—well, Duh! You partied too hard and drove too fast Trying to catch up to me But you couldn’t make the jump to dead—Klutz! You put me on the mantle Jammin’ on my bari-sax Even dead, I’m cooler than you—Nerd! You smell lemon Pledge And you th...

What do you do when your memories get underfoot? You're walking along minding your own business And you smell aftershave Or hear a ring tone Or see a stupid moon That takes your breath as suddenly as a punch to the gut You close your eyes and drink in the delicious pain Of the first kiss and the last kiss And the way breaking up left you Having tantrums in the shower Where no one could see or hear you. You know how memory leads to memory And you wind up face to face with Assh...

Down the basement steps that are more like a ladder Braving cobwebs that brush like ghost hair And centipedes that saunter away to a crack Not allowing one the dignity of having startled it. On a rusty cot Matted hair Sunken eyes The basement girl She can't scuttle into a crack So she shrinks into herself And hides behind bent knees Curled like an armadillo Hoping we'll go away. Sacred woman of light approaches Singing a song we three know from childhood. She doesn't mi...

Overwhelmed, Overdrawn and Over There Three babies under three Married to madness beginning to manifest In a country where people Have been bred for generations to be Distant, Logical, and Blunt Vowels that sound like home But the meaning eludes me Ich verstehe nur Bahnhof Then came the letters from Dad Office envelopes containing The spiky backhand I know so well The faint smell of English Leather Delicious wit like Swiss cheese on pumpernickel The lighthouse and the cortland t...

The Basement Pine paneling with knots Like the eyes of many owls. Sheets draping piles of things Depression Era babies can’t throw out. Damp smell of books decaying Bobby Fischer Teaches Chess Edith Hamilton’s Mythology Idylls of the King—forgot we had that. Even Mom and Dad debate about Who will go down there. I go to keep the peace And appease the knees Then I remember the ghost Always just beyond my peripheral vision. I whistle to show it I’m not afraid. What ...

I stand at the window As you tumble on the grass like a litter of puppies Sweaty and popsicle stained. I dry my hands on a dish towel and My heart smiles. I stand at the window As the radio panics And the sky turns chlorine green. I gather you under my wings and play camping while My heart heaves a force field around you. I stand at the window As you pull away backing down the driveway, Age 16 years and 20 minutes. I try to read or knit or fake sleep but I check the window ...

I dreamt I was in the school play A musical about the Triangle Shirt Waist Fire Of all things. Dress rehearsal Fin de siècle bustle and blouse Make good tinder. Horsing around backstage Elaborate adolescent improv My algebra book slips Down the trap door To the dusty underside of the stage Can’t clamber down in costume Pete—not my Pete—Pete, the team captain Who never noticed me in school Retrieves it for me and smiles Like a yellow lab waiting for me To scratch his ...

I found a scrap of a piece four years old and decided to work with it. Fencing There are soccer moms And Little League moms. I am a fencing mom. Fencing is an elegant combination of Ballet and thumb wrestling. Competitors dance up and down The electrified strip. A pantomimed tango— With sharp objects. Fencers themselves are an odd mix D&D geeks, feminists, and elitists Rich kids bored with pony club. Then there’s Katie--a poor kid From aristocratic bloodlines, ...

The Fortune Cookie "Never let go too soon. Never hold on too long." Well, that’s the trick, isn’t it? If only we could get a look at the script ahead of time Then we would know our cues. When to take center stage and when to exit stage right. In our little drama I have consistently flubbed my lines. Or you flubbed yours. Or maybe we’re performing two entirely different plays. Last night you comforted me. And I was so mad at you For not recognizing that In every roman...

Pathetic Circus Kids under ten are free with an adult. A bargain, I thought, my kids can see a real Live circus right here at the armory. The clown was good, but so tired. Had he trained For the stage? Played Hamlet? Richard the Third? Defected from a show Leningrad? I laughed till my cheeks hurt just to make sure He wouldn’t kill himself after the show. The lady with the poodles in tutus Must have been in her late seventies. Great gams though. Then the acrobats. Two b...

The title comes from a line in the poem Black Light (II) by David St. John published in the Spring 2002 issue of Blackbird. It started as a free write exercise in my writing group. I liked how it came out so I'm sharing it. Swift and uncomplicated love Permission to give myself to you to me to this moment to say yes to life to believe the lie that it will be Swift and uncomplicated love It's not about shame or wounds or scars or religion or psychology It's about investing...

Accounts Payable One envelope among many White windowed demands A lavender square The cursive I taught you Ink straddles the miles Like Colossus And conjures the sacred Smell of your baby neck Watchband abrasions Days exchanged for electricity And the privilege of not knowing Where waste goes Fold spindle mutilate Shish kabob them all For one more tickle fight Ten years ago.