Tuesday, May 19, 2015

letters from the dreamspace

Last night I had a dream that my son was thirteen years old and he had chubby dimpled wrists like a baby and we were staying in a cottage near the ocean and we sat in the grassy spaces just beyond the sand and we watched the boats and then we danced in the living room. This was a good dream and not an anxiety dream which happens only rarely.

Monday, May 18, 2015


I am thinking about how people want so many things, like trips to Hawaii or a kitchen remodel or a glamorous pair of shoes and all I want is a.) lots of sleep and b.) pain relief. No really. That's it.

I read some monster poems on Saturday at Uncharted Books and it was the first time I felt well enough to go to a reading in at least a year so it was nice to feel a little like my old self almost although not quite because I felt like hell the next day even though I wasn't really on my feet for more than a few minutes at a time. Still it was good to read and to listen and to go someplace other than a.) work or b.) a doctor's office or physical therapy.

I am off tomorrow and I want to write and bake french bread or almond poppyseed cake and maybe draw pictures of insects and tragic women but I will probably sleep and go to PT and go to the pharmacy and sleep some more and make dinner and go to sleep again.

Wednesday, April 29, 2015

It was so much harder than I expected it to be this back to work thing and I was exhausted  by 12:30 but I made it through an 8 hour day and then I came home and made baked ziti with garlic bread and it was a good day until my face broke out in an angry little autoimmune rash and my ankles swelled up like tennis balls but I have this compulsion to show my body that I am the boss.

I watched a horror movie called The Babadook on Netflix and it was not bad: both creepy and effective.

I finished reading The Magicians and need to move on to a new book.

I hope I can keep myself going and do ALL THE THINGS.

Tuesday, April 28, 2015

meanwhile, inside the confessional booth

Back to work tomorrow! Feels so normal. 

Dreamt of playing basketball with a wet washcloth instead of a ball and it kept wrapping itself around my fingers and this made it really difficult to get it through the damn hoop as you might well imagine.  Boring frustration dream.

My jaw is flaring up again but I outsmart it by taking very small bites of everything.

The house is full of baked goods because every possible emotion inspires me to make cookies and cakes and more banana bread.

I have not felt much like writing lately. I think this has been the longest time that I've not really been an active participant in poetryworld. I just want to draw pictures of bees and make pots and pots of homemade tomato soup and watch horror movies and take naps.

I am tired and my joints ache like crazy but I am oddly happy today.

Wednesday, April 22, 2015


Today I wear a little black box to decrypt the secrets of the rock-hard charcoal briquette that is my tiny, evil heart or perhaps there are no secrets to be revealed except that it beats at the same rate as a hummingbird for no reason whatsoever. I am the queen of hearts, a mysterious arrhythmia. 

Today is earth day-birthday and my kid is twenty five and I will make a pan of gingerbread for his birthday cake as this is the request made EVERY YEAR since forever.  I have made fresh ginger cakes and gingerbread with stout and chocolate gingerbread but today is simply Joy of Cooking plain, dark, spicy gingerbread.  I have a whole stick of butter softening on the counter right now.  The only question is do I garnish with orange peel as recommended in the OLD Joy (the one with instructions on how to skin a muskrat and a recipe for Tomato Soup Cake--so retro!) or with candied ginger as recommended in the NEW Joy (which is a completely different animal, as cookbooks go). 

Today I broke the protective box for my cellular phone. A bad omen? Or good luck as my phone itself is unscathed?

Today I woke up achy and STIFF AS HELL.

Today I will sneak up to my Secret Rapunzel Tower Room and write a poem about something random.

Tuesday, April 21, 2015

Tuesday Randomness

This morning I slept & slept while listening to the house creak & lean in the heavy wind.  My bed might be one of my favorite places the dark quiet room the pillows & big down comforter it is so freaking peaceful. I think I return to REAL LIFE next week (and probably a buttload of paperwork) barring any new & hellish medical crisis so I am getting ALL THE SLEEP. 

I think I might actually need one of those old lady pill boxes. I am going to bedazzle it with stickers & colorful rhinestones.

My leg is very angry today which might be a reaction to PT yesterday or med changes or my adventures dreamwalking in the underworld.

Reading: The Magicians

Cooking: maybe some giant muffins the size of my head maybe double chocolate which actually makes them cupcakes if you want to get fussy about it.  I wish I had a lemon meringue pie but this would be far too labor intensive.  Maybe soup if I feel ambitious but I do not feel particularly ambitious and of course my leg is very fucking angry today indeed. 

Sunday, April 19, 2015

maybe you should write yourself a love letter

It is very strange to have to THINK about walking as in heel-toe-push-off-lift-leg-bend-knee because I have been DRAGGING this leg around for so long and it still has less than half of its flexion or close to approximately half anyway.  M will stop me and say lift your foot bend your knee and he sounds just like the physical therapist so HA.

Yesterday I made a big pot of thin thin spaghetti with garlic and herbs and Z and I ate it for dinner and cooking it made me sweaty almost to the tips of my hair even though I wore a bag of frozen peas on my neck while working in the kitchen.  Then we watched Guardians of the Galaxy which was really fun and it is nice that my very grown up kid still hangs out with me occasionally, even on a Saturday night.  Next week he will be twenty five and this makes me both happy and melancholy.  It feels like I was just tripping on legos and playing board games and taking him to the park and then we crossed the tesseract and here we are.

I am making him a pan of gingerbread for his birthday cake this week.  Maybe some chocolate cupcakes too, because why not?

time time time see what's become of me


Dearest darling self,

I want you to remember to have coffee on the front porch remember to bend your knee to listen to the crickets with the windows open to read old science fiction novels and new books of speculative fiction and remember to watch the rain and remember to take the time to doodle something on a note card and to color neatly between the lines if it pleases you.  Remember to eat your soup out of your most beautiful antique bowl or your favorite mug with a big round spoon.  Remember to listen to rice sizzle in hot oil in your wok or to listen to the Pixies or to watch Buffy reruns when you are too tired to do anything else.  Remember to write a poem about monsters or aliens or fairy princesses if you feel the need to say things in figurative language and remember to read what other people are writing about for the sheer pleasure of it.  Remember to call your mother in law and say thank you to text your sister just to say hello to worry less and find the quiet spaces tucked into your days that ask to be filled with nothing and rest when you need to rest and find the energy for your most important tasks and know that it's enough that you folded the socks and then took a nap.  I want you to remember to draw hearts in red ink in the margins of your grocery list and to wear a swirly skirt for no reason even if you are going to be home all day.  Remember to be kind to yourself and to everyone else too even the crows and the stray dogs and the random neighborhood children who think you are a scary witch with a limp and stare like hungry jackals.  All of these things are both real and unreal and wholly beautiful even in the dark.  Remember to let the fireflies light on your wrist without shaking them off immediately.