is fire ants in your nose. A throat full of red hot gravel. Head a mess of cold gluey mashed potatoes. Sandpapered top lip. Wasp stingers in the ears. Interrupted sleep. I'm sick, can you tell?
Worry is a seed lodged in a tooth, a splinter that won't budge, a thumb grazing a sizzling pan. Worry is a wishbone, already cracked. Worry is a candle burning too close to a curtain, a heavy blanket on a... Continue Reading →
Discontent is a shallow bloom, sharp edged, porcupine quills shooting up along the curve of a back, an ache in the teeth. Discontent is a toe stubbed, partially healed, stubbed again. Discontent simmers in a paint flecked pot, clouds the... Continue Reading →
What is it about time that we feel the need to shape it, beat it down, conquer it? What is it about acts of futility that obsess us, while they also perplex? Time has no stake in itself; it simply... Continue Reading →
Disappointment is the barbed side of a coin, flipped with a random hand, revealed with a tricksters grin. Disappointment is a pinch with partially bitten nails, a slice of glass in a soapy sink, the sneaky edge of an envelope... Continue Reading →
I can wake up in the morning, feeling sleepy but generally ok. And then, everything changes. Everything becomes this....... Chaos pushes against me like a fist, fences me in, plucks the possibility of serenity from the air. I live in... Continue Reading →
I am Over the Moon to announce the publication of the 2nd edition of Things My Mother Left Behind, with a Gorgeous new cover and even some new poems! I am so grateful to Suzanne Craig Whytock and Baxter House... Continue Reading →
I stand in the garden at night, taste the freshness of the air, look up into the darkness. My husband tells me there are stars spread across the endless Irish sky, untainted by the violence of city pollution, but I... Continue Reading →
Stories From the Edge of Blindness 