I remember our trips to the ocean.She photographed the old lighthouses and anything that caught her eye.We watched the sunset and drank beers living life as now I simply exist.I remember the peace within those moments.It’s a twisted bliss I embrace now as I decay slowly.I still have those photographs although no longer do I... Continue Reading →
First: Just don’t.Dolphins don’t have bucket lists.They don’t care about yours.They get a little depressedwhen you look timidand scrunch up your shoulders like,“OMG. I am so proud of myselffor doing this.”Then jump infeet first.Afterwards,when you tell your buddies,you roll your eyesand say,“It was no big deal.”And they press you,asking if it changed you.Because social mediatempts... Continue Reading →
I think of this JanisJoplinlonghair, low-slungcorduroy,California flip-flop,cello-playing boy.His hair swung like a tiki barcurtain, the fringe of aflapper dress across my leg.Together in a twinbedthat hair was a shadeand I was a windowand the tassel, frommy neck to my navel, pulled Itself down.How many one-night stands do you remember? How many do you care to recount?That boy played like nothing we... Continue Reading →
about this piece Dunraven PassYellowstone National Park, Wyoming2003Acrylic on canvas16" x 20" See More in Art...
The wind is subtle. I imagine her whisper as I stand alone in Goliad Plaza. I remember the press of her hand against my chest after we danced. We trusted each other a little more each second as people watched her spin again and again to a Tejano song whose name I wish I knew,... Continue Reading →
Lake Tahoe, oh my gosh, I love Lake Tahoe! Feels like a forever ago I would ski on the water and ski on the snow . . . then just go home. Home was right down the road, right down Mt. Rose highway. Home was the Biggest Little City in the World, and the whole world knew it. Home was... Continue Reading →
There will be some pain.For me, a demon in the lower spine,a jab and a pinch, the body’s prophecy.My grandmother has needles in her hands,and I’m not surprised.Most of her life has been scissors and thread.There will be a change in the light,a body rushing between the sun and home.A giant bird, perhaps, a cryptid,... Continue Reading →
about this piece a cynic is a man2019 See More in Art...
The candid game between the dead barrenNun-Mother and the satyr’s ludic libido grabbleDown the velvet tablecloth near a rose;Glass ocular balls tumble down in disarrayOnto the floor like the taboo-apples from Eve’sTree of knowledge into the orchard-gardenWhen Eden’s primal scene was interrupted.The children sneak into the naughty ball gameTheir mother plays with her Nun-Mother’s ghost,A... Continue Reading →
about this piece Firehole CanyonYellowstone National Park, Wyoming, USA2003Acrylic on canvas20" x 16" See More in Art...
