In 1994 (2020 NaPoWriMo #17)

Contessa Brewer on Twitter: "A 25- foot telephone cord to stretch ...

When I bought the 50-foot cord,
The phone and headset in one moveable piece,
My single existence was less

I roamed the house, cleaning,

My neck was worn crooked
From cradling the receiver
On my shoulder,
Swiss cheeks beeping the buttons.

I could just reach the upstairs phone
From the downstairs phone,
Adding air to the line when leaving
One off the hook.

But opening my world to
All but mere square feet of my entire
Small, first
House. Home.

My dial-up modem,
Quicken software,
Upright grand piano,
CD player.

I would curl with my
Baby blue heeler,
CBS on rabbit ears,
Eating pan-popped popcorn

Those were
the days.
Were those
the days?

Unearthly Delights (2020 NaPoWriMo #6)

Unicorn rearing

Striking hooves, thudding.
Muscular shoulders kniving beneath me.
I smell horsey-sweat,
Bracing for him to take flight.

Unicorns, elegant rhinos,
Real as the toes on my feet.
Fantasy knubs under my chubby heels,
Until the fine hairs of feathers sprout.

We both, unicorn and fancy,
Take flight. Then the call to supper.
The unicorn lands in Bosch’s world.
I land on an earth void of delights.

‘Til we meet again

She Wore Armor (#26 Na/GloWriMo)

She Wore Armor

(inspired by Joy Harjo’s “She Had Some Horses,” resurrected for NaPoWriMo prompt)

(Thank you Na/GloPoWriMo for featuring my poem on Day Twenty-Seven of NaPoWriMo 2019)

She wore armor

She wore armor over her beating heart
She wore armor over her pendulous breasts
She wore armor over her curving hips
She wore armor over her mound of flesh.

She wore armor

She wore armor over her good ideas
She wore armor over her strong hands.
She wore armor over her written words
She wore armor over her selfless service

She wore armor.

She wore armor over the cold space in their bed
She wore armor over the spoken wounds
She wore armor over the indifference
She wore armor over the goodbye

She wore armor.

She wore armor when her husband left
She wore armor on the morning metro
She wore armor at her Pentagon desk
She wore armor in her smile.

She wore armor

Her armor shifted under his gaze.
Her armor protested under his hands
Her armor groaned under his kiss
Her armor cracked under his weight

She opened her armor.

Cliff Diving (#29 Na/GloPoWriMo)


Is safety an emotion?
What is a life lived
Peering out from shelter?
From a position of stasis?

Once the bogey man
Pushed me over a cliff.
In the freefall moment,
Buoyed only by air,

The worst came true.

I didn’t die on the rocks,
Rushing up to me as if
I was the one who was
Holding still.

The enormous pain
Sheared open my heart.
The shoreline presented a
Sheer wall and

I climbed the cliff again.

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