Shaky hands please calm
Upset tum please settle now
But please don’t leave me
Shaky hands please calm
Upset tum please settle now
But please don’t leave me
Gaseous puppy rump.
Can’t scoot him off. Too darn cute.
Suck it up. That’s love
“‘S’cuse me ma’am. I’m lost.
I can’t find grandpa nowhere.”
“Funeral room five.”
Rosé before noon?
Puppies, plans, lunches with friends?
Oh! Vanderpump Rules!
Ridges cleave open
Sun screens burn to smithereens
Mars? Arizona!
Pond swells after rain
Cactus bitter at it all
Progress down the drain
The moment he calls
I want to be by his side
Like how a leash works…
Severed ties while drunk?
Crying over a glass now?
What more will it take?
“During midnight skies, I watch the moon fall out of love with the stars.” – Unknown
Like a painting, I was unfinished. And you like to start projects, but not ever complete them. Until my frontal lobes developed–until I was a fully completed sculpture, I could not finish this poem. Confusion of that time stuck like putty in the holes of my frontal lobes.
When I wake up I want to be a grown-up. And I’ll tell you why. Every night after dinner, my mom and dad tell me we have a big day planned tomorrow and tell me all the things we have to do. And every night after talking about it all, I just wish for once there was nothing to do all day. But when I said this to mom and dad last night, they told me that living without a plan was a surefire way to attract the schedule monster. The schedule monster runs around in your brain asking you (1) what you’re going to do (2) why you don’t have a plan for the day (3) why you don’t have a plan for your life, all day over and over because there was no plan. I asked if that still happens when you become a grown-up and they said yes. So why do I want to be a grown-up when I wake up? Because then at least I can decide what time to have dinner.
My dog stares at me with glossy, saddened, yearning eyes. So I stop tasks I’ve started and pick him up, peppering him with kisses. Until moments later when he wants to be put down again and then I am left to start all over. And each time I leave a little more saddened.
Collapsing inward
Ice where there shouldn’t be cold
Snow on peonies
Replying to the last of my clients and closing Outlook, I lament the ticket to D.C. that will go unused tonight. I fight back a tightness in my throat that I’ve come to understand needs two fingers of whiskey to solve at the end of the day. No one did this to me.
I always said you’re not ready to start your own company until you can’t remain at any other company.
Truthfully, I let myself steal from myself. I stole my future from myself. Procrastinating to avoid managing emotions about living. The reward of putting things off…that feeling becoming an addiction in itself. A dream adjacent my true dream.
My vision for this company is like rain. Cleaning out self-pity and distractions that tug at my memory, emotional reserves, concentration, and—
“¿Qué cenamos?”
“Dejame…”
He scurries away like I’ve just raised my hand to slap him. Maybe he’ll ask his father and be scared enough to actually leave me alone. I love my kids. I love my kids. I love them. But I can’t love my clients, kids, boss, husband, churchgoers, everyone! Can I?
I pour the whiskey and set my out of office email with no return date.
Meet me 4pm
Hand on hand like a mirror
“I’ve missed you darling.”
Like a yo-yo, I believe I’m playing a game until I realize the string and the yo-yo are both trapped in a dance.
I’ve been here many times before and yet I always feel strange. This is not a home. I’d rather be thrown and have no one come pick me up just to end this love game.
When the sun is setting on this life I skipped through, I will reverse and replay.
I will watch my life and laugh and cry and never once during a love scene will I have to wonder “what if?”
That is not to say I won’t wince or grimace at the times I embarrassed myself or eschewed self-control.
Inevitably though, I will enjoy the show.
Should beasts eat their tail!
Venom… years later, at will
Old posts… not yet dead
We can try hiking until we find exactly where the sunrise will look best. But we will end up cold and standing on a tilting rock to get an almost perfect view.
Maybe if we hop in an air balloon—but then that would lead to us freezing away while we chase a pretty skyline.
(At the end of the 8 page dog boarding packet)
In two (2) sentences only!!!!!! tell us about your dog:
Hello I’m so sorry, but I have to warn you, you cannot raise your voice above a firm ‘calling to’ at my dog because if you do he will cry incessantly and it sounds so sad it’s maddening and not worth the effort to endure or to explain the backstory. Good luck!
If love is a hotel…
And my love is on the top floor…
What gets me in the door?
To the front desk?
On the elevator?
With a key to the top floor? (Of course that floor is locked and guarded by fearsome goons.)
To the same room on the top floor?
And into his arms to save his life?