Poem, snippets and essays of my life
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Category: Dont Worry Be Happy
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Paris
Good to get out in the world
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Happiness
Freshly painted on my pathway
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Two Chaise Lounges
Under the umbrella by the pool are two quilted chaise lounges, like the rollers in factories used to move small items to the next station. If you run your hand over them you will feel symmetry of each roll until you don’t. Their slope is inviting as one can see it’s the shape of a body unconscious waiting to be lifted upward by a parent or a lover. […]
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I let you haunt me
In the beginning I was the one with the power. Or at least I thought I was. I had such faith in the power of the sashay of my hips that I never minded walking away. I never even had to turn around to know that you were panting after me. I could hear your […]
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My Mother gets Religeon or…
When my mother was dying she began to wonder about religion. My Mom had a great way of putting things. Once, when we went to Walmart for picture hangers, she told me I was too competent and that was why there was no man in my life. I found this hysterical but also probably accurate. […]
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Fall
The Best Memory The best Fall I remember happened outside of Paris due north near Chambord in November maybe October when the Beaujolais Nouveau was released along with me…I walked out the door of the inn we stayed in while you drank with our host. I wandered following troughs of wet leaves […]
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Child
Integration There’s a moment when a child stops playing in her imagination as there is “Another” watching. The play become something other than sole imaginary play and is now “observed” play. The child comes out of her unconscious and is now conscious of her presence in the world .No one really remembers this moment except […]
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Words
I think if there was one rule in life it should be that no one can say anything about anyone else unless they’re standing there in front of them. This fails to apply if you are saying very complementary things about someone else but it’s nicer to say it to their face. It seems to […]
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My Birth
My mother’s father, Samuel Joseph Cawley, died three days before I was born and was buried in a paupers grave in Van Nys, California, alone and still drunk so the embalmer had it easy. My mother went into labor etherized and alone, and, hearing “ it’s a girl”, sighed into her peignoir and turned her […]
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“The Red Kerchief” Claud Monet
I wanted him to notice me. It wasn’t that difficult to see what I wanted. In winter he stayed inside all the time. Painting. He was. All the time. Winter, always a danger to everyone, young and old. No freedom in winter. Too much freedom for him. I wandered by that day wearing red, A […]
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