Freshwater Drum – Davis McCombs In certain parts of Kentucky’s cave country it is possible to drop a buoyant object in a sinkhole and then retrieve it, often hours later, when it floats up in a bluehole spring. A watermelon, for instance, after having traveled the length some underground stream, emerges chilled to a cool … Continue reading Poem of the Week, by Davis McCombs
Anyways – Suzanne Cleary (for David) Anyone born anywhere near my home town says it this way, with an s on the end: “The lake is cold but I swim in it anyways,” “Kielbasa gives me heartburn but I eat it anyways,” “(She/he) treats me bad, but I love (her/him) anyways.” Even after we have … Continue reading Poem of the Week, by Suzanne Cleary
When I Met My Muse, by William Stafford I glanced at her and took my glasses off–they were still singing. They buzzed like a locust on the coffee table and then ceased. Her voice belled forth, and the sunlight bent. I felt the ceiling arch, and knew that nails up there took a new grip … Continue reading Poem of the Week, by William Stafford
Needle and Thread – Dorianne Laux It was the sixties, and embroidery was back in, and if you had jeans torn at the knee, an old denim jacket, a plain white shirt or a cloth handbag, I might ask you what you liked then spend hours alone in my room with your favorite colors, woven … Continue reading Poem of the Week, by Dorianne Laux
Yellow will make me stand out, he thought. Still, though: “No.” Blue Man Group reject. Continue reading Haiku, 1 July
your own PDK for writing
a collection of beautiful words.....
Objects, Memory and Meaning
If it can't be said in a hundred words, then it can't be said in a thousand.
sewing a handmade wardrobe
“after the news of the dead, whether or not we knew them we are saying thank you” ~W.S. Merwin (September 30, 1927 – March 15, 2019)
The Good Things Black People Do, Give and Receive All Over The World
Musings on poetry, language, perception, numbers, food, and anything else that slips through the cracks.
Thoughts on the world around me
the literary asylum
Bipolar is my superpower
